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9 





THE 

ETERNAL 

QUEST 

- 

.BY A' y ¥ 

T. A. STEUAR'prif 

J > \ 

Author of 

‘^The Minister of State/’ “Wine on 
the Lees,” etc., etc. 

/ • ' " 1 ^ u ’ ' 

; •« * - T ) 1 - ^ • > ■) , , , 

.** )•)«# <-/ 

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> 'i If J .> ' I ' ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ 

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potk 

Dodd, Mead & Company 
1901 




n 


THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 
Two Copies Received 

APR. 19 1901 

Copyright entry 
CLASS^XXa N«. 
COPY B. 



Copyright, 1901 
by 

Dodd, Mead and Company 


The Eternal Quest 


Book I 


CHAPTER I 

General Malcolm adjusted his eyeglass, and stared 
critically at his son. 

“Lieutenant in the Black Watch, and contemplating 
matrimony with the chaplain’s daughter,” he remarked 
grimly. “ Ah ! ” 

Under the withering gaze the lieutenant moved uneasily 
on his seat. There was but one man whose severest look 
he could not meet with a steady grey eye, and that man 
happened to be his father. He had taken the high glance 
of a commander-in-chief without a quiver; but he had to 
own that the single eye of the grisled soldier whose name 
he bore, whose fame filled him with lively pride, was at 
times extremely disconcerting. The general’s anger had 
made hardened warriors quail ; but it was less terrible than 
the scorn into which, in certain moods, he concentrated his 
knotty strength. 

“You believe,” he went on in a tone which made every 
word a barbed arrow — “you believe a career of glory would 
be accelerated by adding to the impedimenta ? As an old 
soldier I tell you, Ivor, that’s an execrable plan of campaign 
- — execrable.” 


1 


2 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

‘‘And yet you’ll admit, sir, some have adopted that plan 
and done very well,” ventured Ivor. Perhaps only a filial 
spirit of forbearance kept him from making a more pointed 
retort. 

“ The last thing I should think of denying would be the 
truth,” rejoined the general, “ and I’ll go a step farther and 
say that when I got my V.C.,” and he tapped a breast at 
that moment decorated with nothing more martial than the 
faded embroidery of a dressing-gown — “ when I knew I 
had won the bronze-and-laurel my heart bounded because I 
knew your mother’s would bound also.” 

He turned suddenly, looking up at the library wall, on 
which hung the portrait of a beautiful woman ; then spring- 
ing to his feet he kissed that portrait as a devotee kisses the 
image of a saint. 

“ There she is, Ivor,” he said in a voice magically 
changed. “ God bless her memory. After that tre- 
mendous day her simple ‘Well done. I’m proud of you’ 
was more than the congratulations of the commander-in- 
chief.” 

Ivor flushed deeply. A thrill hot as the thrill of battle 
passed through him, making his pulses dance giddily. 

“ It must have been very sweet, sir,” he said. 

“ Oh yes, it was very sweet,” responded the general. 
“Very, very sweet, for you see I got the two things I most 
desired, the meed of a soldier’s ambition and her praise, and 
the knowledge that she was proud of me was the better 
thing of the two.” 

“ I can imagine how proud, sir,” rejoined Ivor, “ and if 
I know her,” he added, feeling as if his heart were in his 
throat and his head an irresponsible spinning top, “Marjorie 
Carmichael on such an occasion would send just such a 
message.” 

“ Ah ! you rogue,” cried the general, his shaggy brows 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 3 

twitching strangely, a flank movement when you pre- 
tended to engage me in front. Well, the soldier, old or 
young, who allows himself to be caught by a ruse deserves 
his fate. As for Miss Carmichael I have nothing but 
praise for the child’s goodness and beauty. I like her 
almost as if she were my own. Her father, too, is one of 
my oldest and dearest friends. In fair weather and foul 
Colin Carmichael and I have held together as comrades. 
He has stood by me in hotter spots than any which our 
successors are called on to occupy — ay, a deal hotter. I 
owe him gratitude for many a deed of friendship and many 
a fervent prayer. All the same,” and the accent of critical 
reproof stole back into his voice, “ I don’t think my son 
can quite afford to marry his daughter.” 

“ Afford ? ” echoed Ivor. 

“Afford,” repeated the general. “ Your tone seems to 
reproach me with worldliness. Well, put it from the other 
side. I don’t think she can quite afford to marry you. For 
what have you but your sword and what has she but her 
charming face. Do you think a sword and a charming 
face a sufficient capital to begin housekeeping on ? ” 

“ I am not without prospects, sir,” returned Ivor warmly. 

“ I wouldn’t make too much of prospects,” rejoined the 
general. “ As one who has been through it I tell you war 
is the riskiest of all lotteries ; it’s not a case of all prizes 
and no blanks, I assure you. Glory’s a splendid thing ; 
fighting and preaching are splendid things — if they are well 
done ; but believe me they are not by any strength of 
imagination to be called lucrative. To begin, like charity, 
at home, how have Carmichael and I fared ? I have one 
eye and a pension j he has one arm and a country kirk ; 
and when we make ends meet neither of us has much left 
for a spree.” 

“ I know nothing about kirks,” said Ivor, crimsoning yet 


4 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

more deeply, “ but the sword has before now been made to 
suffice.” 

“ So, so,” said the general refixing his eyeglass, “ that’s 
the sentiment which extends the queen’s dominions, and 
if I were young again Well, Jane ? ” 

The exclamation was due to the entrance of his sister. 
Miss Malcolm, who interrupted without apology as one 
having authority. And in truth her authority was undis- 
puted. In a moment of facetiousness her brother had 
dubbed her Adjutant-General of the Forces, and the title 
stuck, but in effect she discharged the duties of commander- 
in-chief. She was a tall, spare, austere spinster, verging on 
sixty, with a calm manner, an ascetic face which empha- 
sised the square Malcolm chin, a serious view of life and 
unflinching fidelity in ruling an obstreperous brother and 
his two motherless girls. Her nephew, she sorrowfully 
owned, got beyond her when he passed under the evil in- 
fluences of Sandhurst. She loved them all with a vigilant, 
jealous love that was a potent irritant and the cause of mani- 
fold misunderstandings. Over her martial brother she exer- 
cised dominion that was an example in domestic discipline. 

“You know, James, it is for your own good,” she would 
say when the general, spluttering rebelliously, swore he 
would endure her tyranny no longer, and all such outbreaks 
ended in unconditional submission. 

“Jane,” he cried once in the throes of desperation, 
“ providence deprived the British army of a martinet when 
it put you into petticoats.” 

“ If I were at the head of a regiment it would be well 
disciplined.” 

“ Disciplined ! ” retorted the general. “ You’d be shot.” 

Nevertheless he greatly admired her, felt that her iron 
hand was wisely applied, and admitted it would be bank- 
ruptcy without her superexcellent management. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 5 

“Are you to be busy this afternoon, James?” she now 
asked. “ Marjorie Carmichael has come to spend the 
afternoon ; the girls are not in yet, and I have promised to 
bring you to her.” 

“ God bless my soul ! ” cried the general, leaping to his 
feet, “ what made you do that ? ” 

“ What is the matter ? ” she inquired softly. 

“ Matter ? ” he repeated tragically, “ oh, only just this, 
that women must always be doing the wrong thing at the 
wrong time in the wrong way. That’s all.” 

“ I’m sure I’m much obliged to you, James,” said Miss 
Malcolm, turning as if to leave the room. 

“Jane,” said the general, “ don’t go.” 

He dropped back into his chair, trying to compose him- 
self. 

“You couldn’t know, of course you couldn’t,” he added 
propitiatively. 

She wheeled with more than military alacrity. 

“ Know what ? ” she asked. 

“ Oh, that I wanted to get on with this confounded 
work on strategy.” He waved his hand helplessly over a 
litter of books and papers. “ Three-fourths of my material 
is in German, and beyond all doubt German is an invention 
of the devil. No human brain could have devised such a 
maze.” 

Jane regarded him, smiling quietly. 

“ I am sorry for interrupting you,” she said ; “ it did 
not occur to me that a thing which has stood for five years 
couldn’t stand half an hour longer. But of course you 
needn’t leave your work. Marjorie was counting on some 
fighting reminiscences. She’s as greedy of that fare as 
ever was Desdemona, poor girl. But I’ll make your 
apologies, and I dare say Ivor,” turning to her nephew, 
“ will help me to entertain her.” 


6 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ Jane/* said the general with sudden gallantry, “ I 
wouldn’t have you and your visitor disappointed, not for 
the world. By all means Pll do as you wish. I’ve got a 
good idea on strategy which may well simmer. Say I’ll be 
in immediately.” 

He rose, threw olF his dressing-gown, patted his grisled 
locks, pulled his white moustache, and marched into the 
drawing-room, Ivor following at his heels. 


CHAPTER II 


As they entered, a tall dark girl rose lightly to meet 
them, a bewitchment of maidenly shyness and bloom. 
Her eye met the general’s and wavered ; passed to Ivor’s 
and dropped, “ for all the world,” said the watchful general 
afterwards, “ as if she were overwhelmed by a feeling of 
guilt.” He marked, too, that the confusion but made her 
charm the more piquant and dangerous, and glancing at 
his son had the appalling military sense of an untenable 
position. For this delightful enemy, who had already 
carried his outworks by virtue of native grace, was not to 
be repulsed by any feat of valour. 

Since, however, it is the soldier’s prerogative to be cool 
and at ease in all straits, he advanced with a gallant word, 
saluting her chivalrously on the cheek, as he had saluted 
her every time they met through the whole course of her 
nineteen years. Then, as she gave a timid hand to his 
companion, he drew himself up, eyeglass fixed, admiring 
with the exquisite gratification of the connoisseur in such 
dainty ware, mingled, alas ! with forebodings of disaster. 
Skilled in defence, he had the acuter perception of his own 
futility in face of such intangible foes as beauty, a sunny 
disposition, and captivating ways. Nothing in military 
science provided for the contingency, so that he could only 
hope and pray for luck. And he was dimly aware that 
neither the hope nor the prayer was at all fervent, since 
if sincere they meant treason to one who held a place of 
her own close to his heart. 

They were very old friends as she reckoned friendship. 
While she was yet in socks and pinafores, exhibiting 

7 


8 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

chubby brown legs without thought of the world’s opinion, 
he called her chum, and in return she took liberties with 
the hero of twenty fights upon which not a man in as many 
heroic regiments would have ventured. Moreover, in the 
days of dolls and sweetmeats she had given her word of 
honour to marry him, and times beyond count sealed the 
vow by planting eager red lips under the bristling military 
moustache. Since then deceitful Time had brought a 
change — not broken hearts, nor anything so unseemly as 
estrangement, but that mystic transmutation of the child 
into a woman which turns the wisdom of man to foolish- 
ness, with a new sentiment that flourished exceedingly 
beside the old. That new sentiment was the sole cause 
of disquietude, for the general feared developments, and 
was now watching like a scout in touch with the enemy. 

“ I have just heard you are going soon,” she said to Ivor, 
the glow on her cheek suddenly made richer. 

“ Oh, only ordered to hold myself in readiness,” he re- 
sponded. 

“ What is to be ? ” she asked. 

“ Some kick-up in India,” was the indifferent answer. 
“ Some of those lanky beggars on the frontier want another 
drubbing, I suppose.” 

“ And of course the Highlanders must be wherever there’s 
fighting,” she cried. 

“ My dear child, it’s their privilege,” put in the general. 
“God Almighty made Highlanders to fight as He made 
larks to sing or fish to swim, and their graves are wherever 
their country has enemies.” 

“ I think it’s unfair to put them always in the place of 
greatest peril,” she rejoined. 

“Place of greatest honour,” corrected the general — : 
“ place of greatest honour, my dear. In the old army 
phrase, they’re gluttons for battle. If you don’t give them 


9 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

the front of the fighting line they grumble like men deprived 
of their rights. And I tell you this, it’ll be a bad day for 
their country when that spirit departs from them. Think 
of what’s on their colours and be proud.” 

“ I am proud,” she answered, unconsciously lifting the chin. 

“You have good reason,” said the general. “Without 
Highland blood and valour where would England be? 
Where will she be if they fail her ? And hark you, if she 
is to have them ready for the hour of need the sooner the 
muddle-heads who pretend to govern end the game of 
clearing out men to make way for deer the better for us all. 
Fools build houses and wise men inhabit them, says the 
proverb. If we don’t take care the blithe foreigner will 
be hunting our deer without our leave. Mons. Johnnie 
Crapaud’s just itching to get at them ; and if he’s to be 
kept on his own side of the ditch, I would counsel a little 
more appreciation of the Highlanders.” 

“ Oh, I think the Highlanders are still appreciated,” 
chimed in Ivor. “ You know what Wolseley said about 
the red heckle, and it appears to me most other com- 
manders feel safest when it’s about. By the way. I’ll tell 
you a joke. Miss Carmichael. When the Highlanders were 
last in Egypt some imaginative Bedouins, thinking the men 
in kilts were soldiers’ wives, rushed the camp one night to 
capture a few for the desert.” 

“ And what happened ? ” asked Marjorie, smiling at the 
picture called up. 

“ Oh, the natural thing,” returned Ivor. “ Such of the 
Bedouins as didn’t remain behind went off carrying lead 
enough internally to last them for the rest of their lives. 
They now think that if Scotch soldiers are demi-devils 
their wives are demons out and out.” 

The three laughed together, Marjorie, however, adding 
immediately : 


10 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ I hope it won’t be a big war.” 

“ I hope it will,” was Ivor’s response. “ We need a 
good war to shake us up. Besides, it’ll mean promotion. ” 

“ There you are ! ” cried the general, beaming on his 
visitor. “Thirsting for carnage, you see. Well, war’s a 
more exciting game than some people imagine. I tell you 
shrapnel makes stirring music, especially when you’ve got 
to keep still and take it without hitting back. It’s then, 
my dear, many a brave man wishes it weren’t a breach of 
honour as well as of army regulations to show an enemy 
one’s back.” 

“ It must be terrible,” said Marjorie, drawing a long 
breath. 

“ Till one gets used to it,” returned the general. “ At 
the start it’s rather trying. If a man told me his blood 
didn’t run cold the first time he heard the shriek of a shell 
fired with intent to kill, I should know what to call him. 
It’s when the first shiver’s over and the blood heats again 
that your true fighter is himself.” 

“ It’s then, sir, he does the impossible, solves the 
insoluble, and by trying desperately to get killed gets 
mentioned in dispatches,” put in Ivor, smiling. 

“ Rather flippantly put, perhaps, but true,” said the 
general. 

“ It’s terrible,” repeated Marjorie, her imagination work- 
ing excitedly. 

“ There are three stages to your military hero,” pursued 
the general, not ill pleased to have so fair and interested 
a listener : “ first the wild ardour when he goes off 
amidst shoutings and waving of flags ; next the cold down 
the spine when the shouting is past and the other side 
greets him with the salute that makes men spin like tops; 
and finally the grim seasoned madness of the charge when 
the roar, and the ‘ smoke * of guns, and the dust of riven 


II 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

earth, and the cries of dropping comrades are but an 
intoxicating incentive. That’s the spirit that performs 
great deeds, accomplishes the forlorn hope, and carries the 
impregnable position. I wish it were all before me again, 
instead of behind me.” 

“You make us all want to fight,” cried Marjorie, her 
eyes glowing as warmly as her cheeks. 

“ There speaks your father’s daughter,” replied the 
delighted general. “ In very truth there speaks the daugh- 
ter of our ‘ Fighting Chaplain.’ ” 

He checked himself with the feeling of one blundering 
into a snare. What inept enthusiasm was this ? Too 
chivalrous to shock young ladies fresh from boarding-school 
with mess-room talk of slaughter, he would nevertheless 
have been glad if the suggested horrors of war had diverted 
Miss Carmichael’s mind from those who engage in them. 
To that end he meant to direct his conversation, and be- 
hold he was rousing the very emotion most dangerous to 
his interest. 

“We must not forget, however,” he added doubling 
weakly for the original position, “ that war is a very 
sanguinary game of chess, and that those who play at the 
start may never see the finish.” 

“ The more reason for standing loyally by them, sir,” 
she answered. 

She had no notion on what thin ice she was treading. 
She could not guess that she had been the subject of a 
momentous interview, and that the general had said hard 
things. A suspicion of that and the Carmichael pride 
had flashed out regardless of consequences. All she could 
tell was that the general looked at her oddly, and that 
Ivor seemed ill at ease. This was the posture of affairs 
when the general’s two girls broke in, flushed, excited, and 
talking together. They had been scouring the shops for 


12 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

something to make their hero remember them in the inter- 
vals of striving for glory, and returned panting victors. 

At sight of Marjorie they called out their delight in 
a breath, for she was bosom friend and confidante. 
Coleena’s avowal to Ivor gave the reason concisely. “ We 
love her,” declared that candid young lady, “ because she’s 
good, and more than twice as wise as both of us put 
together.” The superior wisdom may have been attribu- 
table to age. On a comparison, frequently made, she was 
exactly six months older than Flora, and twenty-one 
months, minus sixteen days, older than Coleena. The 
goodness was innate and independent of time. A familiar 
presence at Tigh-an-Eas she never called too often nor 
stayed too long. To the general she was a third daughter : 
to Flora and Coleena she was more than a sister, to the 
adjutant-general she was a charming child ; to Ivor — 
what the reader knows. 

The buzz of greeting subsided, the general rose to go. 
Conscious of the safety which lies in a multitude, his fears 
of an immediate declaration from Ivor were dispelled. A 
cunning strategist, he was well aware of the baffling in- 
genuity of love, and knew that his own presence would 
act as a wholesome restraint. But the most ardent lover 
could not very well propose before his two sisters ; and the 
general had in truth one of his periodical fits of zeal for 
the book. 

“ I am going to leave you to yourselves,” he announced, 
sweeping the three girlish figures with his glass. “ You’ll 
excuse me, I know. If I don’t get on with that book, 
they’ll say theory is too much for a man of practice.” 

He beamed, made a courtly bow, and withdrew. A few 
minutes later he was bending with puckered brows and 
compressed lips over the litter of books and papers. 
Jerking his chair closer to the table, he dashed viciously at 


13 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

a formidable tome, as if it were an enemy to which no 
quarter could be given, and turned some leaves resentfully. 
The fact is, he found the beauties of the German tongue 
and the unreasonableness of lovers a vexing combination. 

“ Was ever mortal in such a bog,*" he muttered testily. 
“ Pd rather fight ten of their laager-beer casks in uniform 
than wade through a page of the stuff.** He snorted 
volcanically. “ The Germans are masters of military 
science, but I wish to heaven they could write. Their 
sentences are like their campaigns — planned to hide all 
design.** 

Half an hour later, when in the worst of his throes, the 
quiet was broken by a question put without any warning 
whatever. 

“James, would you enjoy a cup of afternoon tea ? *’ 

Looking up fierily as at a challenge, his eye met the 
adjutant-generaPs peering round the edge of the half-open 
door. 

“Jane, Jane,** he cried starting back so violently that 
man and chair nearly capsized, “you have thrown nine 
squadrons of cavalry and three field batteries into ever- 
lasting confusion. I declare women seem to have been 
made as a perpetual plague.** 

The adjutant-general kept a steady, patient eye on him. 
Accustomed to such explosions, she was in nowise discon- 
certed. 

“You won*t come in, then ? ** she said quietly. 

“ Come in ? ** he repeated wrathfully — “ come in ? Nine 
squadrons of cavalry and three batteries of artillery thrown 
into disorder for a cup of afternoon tea. Jane, Pm amazed 
at you.** 

“ We won*t expect you then, James,** came in an un- 
ruffled voice. 

“ Don*t ! ” retorted James emphatically. “ Do not.** 


14 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

The peering face disappeared, the door closed softly, and 
he paused, listening to the rustle of brocades along the 
passage. When the rustling ceased he drew forward again, 
and set about reforming the prettiest plan of attack that 
ever overwhelmed a foe. 

“ Let me see,” he said to himself, groping after the dis- 
organised forces. “ Oh, confound the thing ! ” he growled. 
“ Helter-skelter, and all because of a woman’s nonsense 
about afternoon tea.” 

He rose and strode up and down the room after the man- 
ner of vexed men, looking out at intervals upon a world of 
wood and mountain drowsing in the glory of a Highland 
June. Ordinarily he would have stood by the open win- 
dow gazing, the rapture of the returned exile in his heart, 
perhaps leaned out drinking the perfumed air. But this 
was no time for sentiment or poetry. The prospect was 
a chaos of dishevelled cavalry and artillery, due to a 
woman’s frivolity. Suddenly, however, he drew up, like 
one who spies treason. 

“ Oh ho ! ” he cried, hastily screwing in his eyeglass. 
“ Oh ho ! That’s it, is it ? ” 

As he spoke, Ivor and Marjorie were disappearing round 
a corner of the shrubbery. The next minute the “ Fight- 
ing Chaplain ” appeared at a bend on the other side. 

“ Good,” said the general almost joyously. “ Good. I 
wonder if he knows,” he thought, going ofF to meet his 
old friend. “ I wonder if he knows.” 


CHAPTER III 


He was first at the door, where he stood beaming and 
calling a welcome. Always glad to see the Rev. Colin 
Carmichael, a double gladness was upon him now, for in 
view of the business in hand the visit was nothing less than 
providential. 

‘‘ Come in,” he said, with a hearty grip of the hand — 
“ come in,” and they went straight to the library. 

“ H’m ! the book again,” remarked Mr. Carmichael, cast- 
ing his eye over the littered writing-table. 

‘‘ The book again,” responded the general cheerfully. 
“ But Colin, I wish God had given the grace of lucidity to 
those cloudy Germans. Their treatises are so many 
tangled thickets : one gets through them with great pain 
and tribulation. Well, well, never mind,” gathering up the 
loose papers. “ I suppose we must all die at last.” 

“The first time I ever found you giving a thought to 
your latter end,” said the chaplain sweetly. “ What’s hap- 
pened ? ” 

“ Your prayers for a better mind must be taking effect,” 
laughed the general. “ Throughout my career, thanks to 
you. I’ve been the best prayed-for man in the British army. 
No doubt I should have been blown to smithereens years 
ago, but for your friendly intercessions. But the Germans 
are proving too much for me. It’s a case of death by slow 
torture. I suppose it would be no use pleading for a little 
light in their dense scientific heads. I want to have a good 
talk ; what will you have to keep the throat moist ? ” 

“It’s hot,” returned the chaplain, instinctively wiping 
his forehead. “ Claret — with a little ice, thanks. I’m more 

*5 


i6 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

than half of Keats’s mind — that there’s nothing like claret 
of the right sort, only I draw the line at putting pepper on 
the tongue for relish. I can get the flavour without that. 

“ An odd fancy to put pepper on the tongue,” remarked 
the general, when they were seated over the cooling drink. 
“ Most of us find this world hot enough without resorting 
to pepper on the tongue.” 

He looked at his friend, thinking of the heat that was 
likely to ensue presently, yet reckoning confidently on 
allegiance. Nor did he reckon without cause. 

The pair had behind them a good half-century’s com- 
radeship, tried, in the general’s words, by every variety of 
weather, fair and foul. The deeds of their manhood are 
recorded in books of history ; and of the deeds of their 
youth legend cherishes many inspiriting particulars. The 
friendship on which they had grown grey together began, 
not too auspiciously, in mutual effusion of blood and 
devilries that still have power to rekindle the eye of palsied 
story-tellers. The testimony of one succinct chronicler 
is naively comprehensive. “ As boys they fought each 
other,” he tells, “ as men they fought thegither, and ’deed 
it’s my opinion there’s nothing left for them but to go to 
heaven hand in hand. We’re all proud of them. I 
couldn’t tell you how many men they’ve killed atween 
them.” 

A misguided Englishman hearing this eulogy asked with 
lifted eyebrow if one of them were not a parson. 

“ A minister o’ the gospel,” corrected the historian — “ a 
minister o’ the gospel, and one of the best too. It’s worth 
yer while coming north in summer just to let him put the 
fear o’ hell in ye. A man’s the better of that kind of 
medicine whiles. No minister I’ve ever heard gives ye 
the real grue of the thing like Mr. Carmichael. We’ve 
had fancy men from the south, but pagh ! a child might go 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 17 

to sleep under them. When Mr. Carmichaers in trim ye 
just sit freezing and burning at the same time, listening to 
him. He’s had people fentin’ before now. They said it 
was the heat ; I know what it was. And he’s a man o’ his 
hands as well. He’s put more than one of the queen’s 
enemies to bed for good. And though he’s getting old like 
the rest of us and has only one arm, the other being some- 
where in India, I wouldn’t trust him yet when his dander’s 
up.” 

There came a time when it seemed the friends were to 
be lastingly separated. At the university, owing to some 
freak or impulse, Carmichael diverged into theology ; but 
when ready to preach he was manoeuvred as chaplain into 
the Highland regiment in which his friend held a commis- 
sion. Almost immediately afterwards Ensign Malcolm 
fell headlong in love with a charming and portionless girl 
whom he met in London, and, despite financial stringency, 
decided to marry her off-hand. 

“You’ll see me through ? ” he said to the chaplain. 

“ Count on whatever I can do,” was the prompt answer. 
“ But you’re young and she’s young ; mightn’t you wait a 
while ? ” 

“ I wasn’t asking advice. Rabbi Solomon,” rejoined Mr. 
Malcolm, reddening a little. 

“ I won’t presume to give it,” said the chaplain. “ Count 
on me — now and always.” 

It may have been owing to the chaplain’s hint or, what 
is more probable, to a modified feeling of the stringency 
aforesaid, but instead of getting married Mr. Malcolm simply 
got engaged. 

“ The world’s mine oyster, which I with the sword will 
open,” he wrote to the young lady of his choice ; and sat 
down to consider how the task was to be accomplished. 

Fortunately for men of the sword some throne or post 


1 8 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

of influence is never without a fire-brand. Forthwith a 
conflagration was kindled — that is to say, a war broke out ; 
not a petty thing with savages, but a big properly organised 
affair in which great nations used all the resources of civili- 
sation in blowing each other to atoms. In the Crimea En- 
sign Malcolm’s seniors and superiors dropped with exhilarat- 
ing rapidity, and the luck continued throughout the Indian 
Mutiny. 

“ In fact,” the favourite of fortune owned afterwards, 
“ a partial providence made me the youngest commanding 
officer in the British army. I owe nothing to Pall Mall j 
disease and the enemy were the agents that did it all.” 

The chances of fighting in the East being reckoned sat- 
isfactory after the Mutiny, he said farewell to the High- 
landers, and began that career among native regiments of 
which the military historian preserves the glowing record. 
Wherever within the bounds of the Indian Empire blood 
was shed on behalf of England, he contrived to be there, 
and to leave memories. But in the midst of war he did 
not forget the things of peace. In due course his friend 
the chaplain “ saw him through ” ; and thus it came that 
Ivor and his sisters entered on the grave concern of life in 
the Orient, a lot, it may be added, that likewise fell to 
Marjorie. 

For a time fate and the exigencies of service parted the 
friends. But when the restless hillmen of India made 
Lieutenant-Colonel Malcolm a brigadier, and gave him an 
independent command embracing a battalion of Highland- 
ers, he took care to have the Rev. Colin Carmichael on the 
staff. And that second and closer era of friendship began 
with what came near being a court-martial. As you will 
not find the incident in any document in the war-office 
archives and it illuminates our story, it may be briefly 
described. There was sudden trouble up-country, and 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 19 

Brigadier-General Malcolm with a small mixed force was 
instructed to set matters right. It fared so hard with the 
punitive expedition that one morning, finding his prayers 
for victory unavailing, Mr. Carmichael asked for a musket. 
The response was a gruff reminder that he was a non-com- 
batant. 

“Jimmy might have more thought,” said the chaplain to 
himself, retiring with no great heart for the business to 
minister to the sick and wounded. 

A sudden tumult brought him back at the double, to find 
five hundred streaming furies charging downhill, annihila- 
tion in their low outstretched heads and brandished arms. 
For one moment he stared aghast as at a descending ava- 
lanche j then unobserved he got a rifle and fell in, to the 
sound of clicking bayonets. The next minute the three- 
feet knives were among them. The man of peace came 
out of the nielee with four dead Ghazis to his account. 
But in the British army a man must not presume to show 
valour contrary to orders, and, the wiping up done, the 
chaplain was directed to appear before the brigadier-general 
for conduct unbecoming the cloth. He knew what to ex- 
pect, and took it like a soldier. But before he was dis- 
missed the brigadier whispered in a pained voice : 

“ Colin man, what made you disobey orders ? ” 

And with stifling emotion came the answer: 

“As sure’s death, Jimmy, I couldn’t help it.” 

From that hour their hearts knew no division. There- 
after, when the chaplain (in a crisis) desired to do his 
country a forbidden service, the general winked, remarking, 
“ Breaking regulations again. I wish they’d send me some 
more like him.” 

It was while he was engrossed in the breaking of regula- 
tions that a fragment of shell smote him to earth, tearing 
off an arm, stripping some ribs, and doing other damage that 


io THE ETERNAL QUEST 

ought to have been mortal. In the end his wounds meant 
only an empty sleeve, and a pension nicely proportioned to 
length of service and the folly of getting under fire without 
orders. Aberfourie heard, and was wrath with a niggard 
and inappreciative war office. 

“ Wasn’t he rescuing hurt and dying men ? ” it demanded, 
acclaiming the heroism of its son. 

Thereupon he returned to enjoy the felicity of home- 
grown honours ; and a “ shepherd of the flock ” happening 
to take an opportune leave of the world, the ex-chaplain 
was promptly named as his successor. Thus he came to 
have charge of the spiritual weal of Aberfourie, winning 
the encomiums we have noted. And when several years 
later, on the mandate of Red Tapists, the general like- 
wise took to ways of peace, the old companionship was 
renewed. The comrades who had borne the heat and 
burden of the day side by side were in fact spending the 
evening together. 

“Take off your claret,” said the general blithely, and as 
he refilled the glass. “ I’m particularly glad to see you, 
Colin.” 

“Thank you, you’re always that.” 

“ I’m always glad, but now I’m particularly glad. If the 
question’s not outside the bound of manners, have you 
made arrangements for keeping a son-in-law ? ” 

“ A son-in-law ? ” cried Mr. Carmichael, mirth and 
amazement equally blended in his face. 

The general looked him over in a kind of pity. 

“ Colin,” he said quietly, “young people have strange 
ways with them nowadays. We old codgers sit still in our 
armchairs imagining that because we don’t move the world 
doesn’t move either; and by Jove, sir, the wheel gives a 
turn and we’re grandfathers before we know where we 
are. It seems all our churches and parsons, Colin, can’t 


THE ETERNAL QUEST ii 

keep the devil from meddling where he has no business to 
meddle.” 

“ It’s hard to play with him and win,” returned Mr. Car- 
michael with conviction. 

“ It’s a pity so much ammunition’s wasted on him in 
vain,” remarked the general. “ Well, a little more claret, 
and I’ll tell you something.” 

Whereupon he told what the arch enemy had devised, 
and the inevitable consequence if prompt measures were not 
taken to frustrate the scheme. The minister listened in 
bewilderment. 

“ Are you sure you’re not mistaken ? ” he asked. 

“ I’ll just tell you my evidence,” answered the gen- 
eral. “ My own observation and my son’s confession. 
If you had come up the other side, you’d have seen 
something convincing for yourself. For it’s God’s truth, 
Colin, they’re cooing to each other among the lanes this 
minute.” 

The chaplain broke into a perspiration which iced claret 
seemed powerless to allay. 

“ What do you suggest should be done ? ” he asked, 
falling back on the old familiar leadership. 

“ Well, supposing we’re agreed about the necessity of 
taking action, we have to sit here without any cooing and 
look the thing in the face, fairly and squarely. Now, 
Colin, what the devil have they to marry on ? God bless 
my soul, hardly the clothes on their backs.” 

“ Not much more — speaking, at least, for one of them.” 

“ I’ll speak for the other. He’s got his sword and what 
are called his prospects. The war office has taught us how 
these weigh in the scale of assets. Besides, it seems to me 
the chances of getting into action are every day diminish- 
ing. We grow too fat and tame. A young fellow hasn’t 
an opportunity of carving his way to promotion. Conse- 


22 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

quently, he sticks, or crawls by seniority, a race in which 
the biggest old wife in the service is his match. In truth, 
Colin, what with your efforts and the efforts of the cloth 
generally to get us into heaven quietly, soldiering’s going 
out of fashion.” 

‘‘ My efforts ? ” cried Mr. Carmichael, as if resenting 
deadly insult. “ I hope no effort of mine will ever abolish 
the soldier.” 

“ Well, it does appear to me at times we’re falling into 
a sort of turtle-dove humour. Say what you will, war is a 
necessary kind of surgery for the body politic, and God help 
us when we’re reduced to the peace-trained general. As 
sure as you’re alive there’ll be disastrous blood-letting. If 
a soldier is to be master of his trade, he must keep his hand 
in with the real thing. Empty compliments blathered on 
Aldershot days to please amateurs don’t count in the field. 
They’re good for vanity and for nothing else, except the 
enemy.” 

“ I am glad Ivor is getting his chance,” said Mr. Car- 
michael. “ Selected for special services at three-and- 
twenty — that’s good enough fortune.” 

‘‘ Depends on what’s to follow. He’s going into a 
border skirmish ; there may be a chance, there may be 
none. In any case, there can’t be much cash ; and that 
brings me back to my point. Now, don’t misunderstand 
me, Colin. Marjorie’s the most charming girl alive, bar- 
ring none.” 

The chaplain bowed. 

“ Oh yes, she is, and it’s because I adore the dear child 
and love her as my own daughter that I would protect her 
from infatuation. Whatever happens, we must not 
let them join nothing to nothing under the delusion 
that they’re making themselves rich. That would never 
do,” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 23 

“ Never,” assented the chaplain, the old deference for his 
commanding officer’s judgment strong upon him. 

“ Very well,” said the general gaily. “ I am glad to 
hear you say that.” 

And they prepared orders according to the rights of 
fathers and the laws of military discipline. 


CHAPTER IV 


Gratified by their own promptness in settling an im- 
portant point of authority, our centurions refreshed them- 
selves with a little more iced claret ; and sipping that 
delicious nectar they discoursed agreeably of old events and 
“ battles long ago ” oblivious of the warning clock till the 
adjutant-general abruptly broke the spell with the announce- 
ment that the dinner-hour had come and Ivor was still 
absent. The two exchanged meaning glances. Luckily 
their resolution was equal to the occasion, and the fiat 
should go forth at once. 

The chaplain rose and looked out as if vaguely expect- 
ing to find the truant lying love-sick under a lilac bush ; 
then, turning quickly, intimated he must be off. The adju- 
tant-general would have kept him to dinner, for his pithy 
talk had the virtues of a tonic. But he pleaded that his 
Sunday sermon was yet unwritten ; so he was released to 
wrestle with Diabolus, the general bearing him company to 
the lawn gate. There they stood a moment in silence 
breathing incense of heather and pine and gazing into a 
flood of sunset colour. A dozen crests and ridges burned 
and flushed in the crimson tide, and below, cascades 
gleamed like shivered rainbows, and woods and glens 
darkened mystically. 

“ Colin,” said the general softly, “ it’s grand.” 

“ A miracle,” was the reply — “ the dream that the exiled 
Gael carries with him about the world.” 

“We know, for we have seen it from beyond seas,” said 
the general. “ In his heart of heart the Gael carries that 
and much more. I think that’s why he fights so well, and 

24 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 25 

I’m sure that’s why he’s sentimental. You’ll find sentiment 
and the fighting quality oddly mixed up. The child nur- 
tured on what’s before us now couldn’t help being in 
essence a poet, and what poet could help ? ” 

“ Falling in love,” put in the chaplain smiling. 

“Falling in love,” assented the general. “It’s a con- 
founded shame, Colin, that two effete old rascals like us 
should lay our heads together to defeat the tender plans and 
aspirations of our children. Still, that kind of cruelty is 
necessary on occasion.” 

“ Absolutely necessary,” admitted the chaplain. 

“ Upon my honour I feel twitchings of compunction,” 
said the general. “ I do. It’s a pretty sight to see young 
people honestly and genuinely in love.” 

“ A very pretty sight,” said the chaplain. 

“ Yes, a pretty and heartsome sight,” repeated the gen- 
eral. “ Thank God, we’ve been young and in love our- 
selves. Still, as men and fathers we’ve our duty to do, 
Colin. If these two go and throw themselves over a cliff, 
we’ll have to pick them up. We couldn’t get out of that. 
So it’s better to prevent them from throwing themselves 
over a cliff.” 

“ Certainly, very much better,” returned the chaplain. 

“ And in a little while they’ll get over their disappoint- 
ment,” pursued the general. “ You see, one of them will 
presently have sterner things to occupy him, and the other 
has far too much sense, bless her ! not to see reason.” 

“ Thank you,” said the chaplain. “ In any case, I trust 
she has not forgotten how to obey.” 

They parted, and Mr. Carmichael made his way down- 
ward by scented paths and glades that the enchanter Merlin 
might have haunted. By temperament a poet no less than 
a soldier, he paused at intervals to inhale the dewy fragrance, 
his eye making the circle of flaming peaks, his mind lifted 


26 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

in rapture. Born in due season, the Presbyterian minister 
would have been a sun-worshipper and sung heathen songs. 
As it was, in spite of hard creeds and petrifying theology, 
he could raise the hymn of St. Francis : — 

“ Praised be my Lord God with all His creatures ; and 
especially our brother the Sun^ who brings us the day^ and who 
brings us the light. Fair is he.^ and shining with a very great 
splendour. O Lord.^ he signifies to us Thee.** 

At present, however, with exalted and thrilling thoughts 
were mingled others of a distracting and less elevated kind. 
Where was Ivor, and what was he up to ? Was he pour- 
ing the soft enchantment that infatuates into ears that 
should presently be startled by another tale ? And at that 
questioning, the chaplain, communing more subtly and in- 
timately with himself, leaned over a low mossy wall and 
looked absently into the sunset. He was human and a 
father. In certain dreamy moments he had seen visions 
in which the rebellious Ivor, a general whom his country 
loved to honour, figured grandly, and Marjorie, his own pet 
Marjorie, was radiantly proud of a gallant husband. The 
“ Fighting Chaplain grew tenderly romantic as he thought 
of these things, and of the woman who waited for him in 
the manse below. There came a little sigh, so slight and 
gentle that blown upon a cluster of climbing wild roses it 
did not move a petal. He was not conscious of it himself ; 
and the next moment, the military spirit coming back upon 
him, he resumed his way, feeling that an order from a com- 
manding officer is not a thing for debate. Besides, there 
was the pride of the Carmichaels — a pride keen as jealousy 
and quick as lightning. 

In the gathering gloom he had to pick his steps warily 
over bared tree-roots and jagged edges of rock. Under the 
arched interlacing boughs, dense with June foliage, it was 
already dusk, but the open spaces were still full of a mellow 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 27 

golden light that broke away in magic vistas of forest and 
glen. At the edge of such a space he stopped, cast a 
glance down a breakneck steep sown with flint-points in- 
geniously designed to trip, and, again seized with the loiter- 
ing mood, leaned over a stone fence, musing. In that 
forest-bound privacy heaven and earth breathed an in- 
effable peace. With charmed senses the minister stood 
dimly conscious of the faint intermittent rustling of 
leaves and the hum of distant waters. And as he medi- 
tated dreamily all at once there came from beneath a mur- 
mur so low as hardly to be audible, yet strangely charged 
with passion. 

A thrill of awed surprise passed through the chaplain. 
For an instant he bent his ear, holding his breath; then, 
creeping forward to discover the sharers of his solitude, he 
spied on a seat set by a great rock in a loop of the path 
two figures — the figures of Ivor and Marjorie. They sat 
very close together. Ivor held Marjorie’s hand and was 
saying something quick and passionate, to which she listened 
with bowed head. 

Suddenly she looked up. There was in her face no 
vestige of the shallow pleasure born of mawkish flattery. 
It glowed with a brimming happiness; but it also shone 
with the intense joy of one found worthy of a great trust, 
a light as of a new dawn breaking on a glorified life. The 
chaplain could note all, for the sun streamed on the pair 
between two peaks. Despite the turmoil of his thoughts, 
he marked her divine loveliness, and a deep, tender pride 
filled him. His mind shot back to the time when he had 
sat on the wooer’s seat with the woman who waited for 
him in the manse below ; and behold, here was their child, 
suddenly revealed to his unsealed vision a woman of glori- 
ous beauty, hearkening to the ancient tale from the man 
of all men to her. 


28 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ He will kiss her/’ he said to himself, trembling with 
the thought that it was not in man to resist. 

And sure enough in that very moment Ivor drew a little 
closer, his head inclined forward j but he did not kiss her. 
Instead, quick as undissembled love, she thrust out her 
face and kissed him full on the mouth. Before their lips 
parted Ivor’s arms were about her. A kind of dizziness 
seized the chaplain. 

“ Sacred,” he gasped — “ sacred j ” and fled homeward 
another way. 


CHAPTER V 


Fifteen minutes later he entered the manse, calmed a 
little by the exercise of walking, but still in a high fever of 
feeling. His wife, hearing his footstep, ran to meet him 
in the hall as was her wont. 

“You are late, dearie,” she said, the note of gentle glad- 
ness he knew so well in her voice. 

Luckily the light was too dim to reveal the signs of 
agitation in his face. 

“ A good deal later than I expected to be,” he answered. 

“ And I have been wearying all by myself, for Marjorie’s 
not home yet. She went to Tigh-an-Eas.” 

“Yes, I heard she was there.” 

“ She was to have been home long ago, but I suppose 
they wouldn’t let her go, or perhaps some of her other 
companions got hold of her.” 

He looked at her wistfully. Should he tell her what he 
knew Somehow he had not the heart. 

“ I wish the general wouldn’t insist on being quite so 
friendly and hospitable,” he said, with an air of grievance. 
“ He hasn’t to prepare sermons. It’s ten o’clock ; to- 
morrow’s Saturday, with Davie Anderson to marry, and 
cripple Janet to bury, poor body, and not an idea in my 
head for Sunday’s sermon.” 

“ I’d just give them an old one for once,” suggested 
Mrs. Carmichael. 

“ Ay, ay, just so,” he returned a little petulantly, “ and 
have all the blathering old wives putting their cuddy heads 
together, and whispering that the minister’s done out and 
repeating himself, poor man. A kiss, sweetheart, and a 
light in my study. I’ll concoct something hot for them,” 

29 


30 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ Not too hot, dearie, ’’ she rejoined, smiling. 

‘‘ That would be impossible. I wish nitro-glycerine 
could be put into sermons. I blaze away week after week, 
for what ? To see people drop sweetly to sleep under the 
very muzzles of my guns. Last Sunday I had three of my 
elders snoring together; and they’d have snored right into 
the benediction, too, if Mungo Macpherson hadn’t snorted 
so fearfully that he wakened himself and the others. It’s 
rather humiliating to think that Mungo’s red nose furnishes 
the most caustic criticism ever passed on my preaching.” 

“ It’s the hot weather puts them over,” said his wife 
soothingly. 

“ They’ll have more heat to stand by and by, or I have 
told a good many lies,” was the response. 

He followed her into the little study, where were ranged 
redoubtable fathers of theology in buff, moralists and doc- 
tors of philosophy in buckram, military historians in red 
and blue, and the light-winged gentry of poetry, romance, 
and travel in motley. The chaplain loved books in 
which the heart of humanity beat warmly, and was sus- 
pected of a secret delight in startling his congregation with 
pithy selections from the poets and novelists, for all the 
world as if idle singers and story-tellers made for grace. 

“Take my word for it, dearly beloved,” he told them 
once, observing looks of surprise and disapprobation — “ take 
my word for it you have listened to many a far worse 
preacher than Walter Scott, and hosts of worse moralists 
than William Shakespeare and Robert Burns.” 

“ What about ‘ Holy Willie’s Prayer,’ Mr. Carmichael ? ” 
asked a budding wag, meeting him next day. 

“ ‘ Holy Willie’s Prayer ? ’ ” replied Mr. Carmichael. 
“ Grand — for men,” and he smiled sweetly. “ When your 
beard’s sprouted a bit more we’ll read it together.” 

“ I think I’m making the fare too sugary for them,” he 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 31 

now remarked to his wife. “What my people need, 
my dear, is a strong dose of sulphur, theologically medi- 
cated.” 

She looked up smiling, as one who appreciates a jest. 

“ Sulphur ? ” she repeated. “ Why, what’s the matter 
to-night ? ” 

“A sense of wasted effort and a want of explosive 
power,” he answered. 

He watched her curiously as she first lighted and shaded 
his lamp, and then brushed invisible dust from his writing- 
table. She was prouder of that table than of all their other 
material possessions besides ; not for its intrinsic value, nor 
for the sake of the rousing sermons penned on it, but be- 
cause it was the tribute of soldiers to a soldier whom ironical 
fate made a preacher. The officers of his old brigade 
would have testified to their chaplain’s military qualities 
with a sword, but as a sword to a man of peace would be 
as a wife to a monk, an incongruous and perhaps embarrass- 
ing possession, they chose the best table London could 
produce, and took care it should be of oak. So she cher- 
ished it with a doting affection, proud with a woman’s pride 
in symbolised valour. She was never happier than when 
sitting silent, watching as he prepared his exhortations to 
repentance, and thinking what the carved oak table and the 
empty sleeve pinned across his breast signified. 

Often in her musings she told herself how fatally easy 
it was to misunderstand and misjudge this abrupt, lance- 
tongued, resolute, playful, soft-hearted boy of three-score 
and five who masked his feelings and kept a rough edge to 
the world, as if a man’s first duty were to give the impres- 
sion of having been born gruff. She knew it cost his peo- 
ple a deal of bewildered groping and much secret debate to 
find the key to his character j but she also knew, and the 
knowledge was better than minted gold, that the discovery 


32 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

once made, criticism became devotion. When he had been 
three years a minister in Aberfourie, a critic would have 
hinted a fault at the risk of a broken head. 

Among his devotees the foremost place was held by 
Mungo of the red nose aforesaid j and the justification of 
idolatry was absolute. A pillar of the Church, Mungo was 
at the same time a man of the world, which is to say, a 
boon companion 5 and one Saturday night it befell that in 
making his devious way homeward from a happy gathering 
of cronies, the weak flesh failed — that is, his twisting legs 
treacherously doubled up in the moment of utmost need, 
and he sank upon mother earth, the unfailing refuge of the 
foundered. A shining light thus fallen incontinently in the 
mire might have raised a distressing scandal. But happily 
the spot was quiet; more happily still, Mr. Carmichael, 
passing that way from a deathbed, stumbled upon some- 
thing kicking feebly in the road. Divining his friend’s 
plight at a glance, the minister looked cautiously about to 
make sure that no one was watching, then, lifting the limp 
figure, he gripped it round the waist, and so supporting it, 
moved on. But for the fact that he was minus an arm he 
would have swung it on his back and carried it as he had 
carried wounded men under fire. As it was, half an hour 
passed before Mungo stood by his own door, leering in 
grateful idiocy and hiccoughing thanks. 

“ Sh ! ” whispered the minister. “ You’re safe now.” 

“ Pe’fekly shafe,” answered Mungo. “ A dram, meens- 
ther?” 

But the minister had vanished into the night, and never 
afterwards by word or look recalled the incident. There- 
after Mungo, a critic and stickler in doctrine, would have 
done red battle for the minister’s rankest heresy. And as 
it was with Mungo, so it was with others, till, the spirit of 
idolatry spreading, the chaplain was held in almost as much 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 33 

honour as the general. Both were fighters and friends in a 
strait, and at the bottom of its heart Aberfourie admired the 
fighter, and did reverence to the friend in a strait. As for 
Mrs. Carmichael, she could not tell whether she most ad- 
mired or loved her husband, and in that state of blissful 
doubt a woman falls into simple worship. 

Between the two there was all the contrast of softness 
and gnarled strength ; wherefore the union was perfect. 
Mrs. Carmichael was fifty, and looked thirty-five. Her 
hair was still a glossy brown, her figure compact and youth- 
fully lithe. Time, with his silver and wrinkles, and, worst 
of all, his unhandsome trick of puffing and bulging, was 
passing her by, perhaps because he found her continually 
engrossed in others. Matrons who had expanded too trop- 
ically under his influence looked on her shape wi"h envy, 
and wondered by what art she contrived to keep young. 
Her smile made every man she met a secret lover; and he 
who knew her best loved her most. 

“ Dearie,” he said once, looking into her eyes, “ you 
must really grow old for the sake of company. While I 
advance at the double you stand still, if indeed you don't 
take an occasional run backward.” 

“ Hush, hush,” she answered, stroking his deep-lined 
face. “You bear the marks of battle, not of age, dearie. 
I wouldn’t have them away for the world.” 

And they kissed like one-and-twenty. 

Having lighted his lamp, brushed away imaginary specks 
of dust, and, in spite of a request to mind what she was 
about, calmly and deliberately set his papers in order, she 
turned to go. He was already at his table, quill in hand 
and grim determination in his face. Somebody was going 
to have it hot. 

“ Not too severe, dearie,” she said, smiling at him from 
the door. 


34 the eternal QUEST 

He lifted his head quickly, and smiled back at her, prom- 
ising to obey. 

“And you mustn’t work too late,” she added. “It’s 
not weather for the midnight lamp.” 

The next moment he was alone ; but instead of pushing 
on with his sermon, he lay back in his chair thinking of 
other things. 

There was still a warm opalescent light in the sky, and 
Mrs. Carmichael went outside. In the Highlands a sum- 
mer night is but a brief glimmering darkness; and this was 
one of the pellucid evenings on which you can read by 
natural light within an hour of midnight. The minister’s 
wife stood a while gazing at the eerie shadowed masses of 
wood and mountain above her ; then, passing down a 
rhododendron and lilac aisle, she leaned over the gate and 
looked anxiously up and down the road. What was keep- 
ing Marjorie ? She had never stayed out so late before 
without permission. 

It was impressively still. Miles away a dog barked ; 
nearer a cow lowed ; then all was hushed again, save for 
the eternal monotone of the great river and the steady hum 
of waterfalls. A vague uneasiness took possession of the 
woman at the gate. This conduct was so unlike Marjorie’s 
that something must surely be wrong. Could she have 
gone gathering wild-flowers among the crags above Tigh- 
an-Eas and fallen over a cliff" into the riotous Burn o’ Birks ? 
At that thought the startled mother pictured her daughter, 
the only child God gave her, carried home dripping and 
mangled. She shuddered. How did mothers feel who 
had their children brought home to them dead ? She durst 
not imagine. 

With a heart beating painfully she was about to run 
back to her husband when she heard approaching footsteps. 
The next instant came the sound of familiar voices, and 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 35 

she was out in the road chiding Marjorie for being so late. 
But before Marjorie could answer Ivor was pouring forth 
apologies. He was wholly to blame ; would Mrs. Carmi- 
chael chastise him ? Oh no, Mrs. Carmichael could not 
do that ; and since they were all safe, he must come in and 
get a song. It was hard to say when they should have the 
chance of singing to him again. And so, fluttering and 
talking, she led the way into the house. 

In the light of the hall she perused their faces, asking a 
hundred questions ; but with a furtive glance at Ivor, Mar- 
jorie escaped into the drawing-room, whither he followed 
precipitately. 


CHAPTER VI 


Marjorie went swiftly to the piano to evade her moth- 
er’s questioning looks. But as her nervous fingers touched 
the keys her shining head leaned ever so little towards the 
shoulder, and she glanced covertly at Ivor, her eyes spark- 
ling with a light and a meaning which left him tingling in 
delicious pain. She was more than adorable, and he durst 
not tell her. He had never half revealed his love, his de- 
votion. Why had he not acted the lover better when she 
was all his own in the twilight, under the conniving firs, 
kissed out his passion on lip and brow and poured into her 
ear the sweetly burning things which now surged in his 
breast and must not be uttered ? He had been afraid to 
offend her. She had trusted herself with him in the falling 
night, nestled in his strength and honour, and he held her 
in a throbbing reserve, delicately, as one holds a rose lest a 
leaf be crumpled or soiled. He would hold her as deli- 
cately were they in the gloaming under the veiling firs 
again ; but he would also be apter, much apter, in giving 
his feelings tongue. And as he thought thus, all at once 
she turned, and with another electric look asked what she 
should sing. 

“ Something Scotch,” he answered, flushing like one 
caught with a shameful secret — “ something Highland.” 

Almost at random she struck into an old favourite, “ The 
Bonnie Banks o’ Loch Lomond.” In the opening notes 
her voice rose tremulously, storm-tossed as Ivor fancied ; 
but as she went on there came into it an ineffable sadness 
of yearning. The spirit of the mist and the glen seemed 
to wail ; there was woman’s sobbing in the air for heroes 
who had gone forth to war and had fallen. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 37 

Oh ! Ye’ll tak’ the high road, and I’ll tak’ the low road. 
And I’ll be in Scotland before ye ; 

But trouble it is there, and mony hearts are sair. 

On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond. 

The window was open to the summer night, and as 
the song gushed out some one came to a halt in the road 
listening. 

“ That’s Marjorie’s voice,” he said to himself, “ and 
there’s tears in it.” 

With that he turned in through the gate, and the next 
minute a servant announced Mr. Archibald Buchanan. It 
was a pure formality, for he entered as a friend needing no 
announcement. Mrs. Carmichael rose, greeting him heart- 
ily ; Marjorie, too, gave him a hand, Ivor somewhat indif- 
ferently following her example. Archy returned the young 
soldier’s salutation with a look which said, “ And what 
the devil right have you to be poaching here, pray ? ” 

“ I heard you singing,” he explained to Marjorie, “ and 
couldn’t resist the temptation to come in. I must apolo- 
gise, Mrs. Carmichael, but the song suggested you weren’t 
exactly going to bed.” 

“ And surely we’re glad to see you, Archy,” returned 
Mrs. Carmichael warmly. “ How are the studies pro- 
gressing ? ” 

‘‘ Middling, as the man prayed,” replied Archy. “ I had 
a desperate bout with the holy fathers in the wood up by 
to-day and, to confess the truth, was worsted. So I put 
them under a stone and went off fishing. But you won’t 
tell that to Mr. Carmichael.” 

Archy was a divinity student and only son of “the 
banker,” who was also Mr. Carmichael’s chief elder. 
Partly for business reasons in his father, partly from reli- 
gious feeling in his mother, and without the least suspicion 
of spiritual bias in himself, he was destined for the church. 


38 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

An unusual circumstance in the case of one so dedicated 
must be noted : his cleverness was freely admitted. He 
had already distinguished himself (erratically) in the arts 
course, and a talent for practical concerns was not held to 
unfit him for theology. The general, looking through mil- 
itary eyes, saw in him the raw material for an excellent 
soldier, and the chaplain was disposed to coincide. But as 
the banker shrewdly pointed out, with skill and a little luck 
as much might be made out of fighting the devil as out of 
fighting one’s fellow-men. Hence in a commercial point 
of view there was no reason to alter the original plans. 

Archy had been a session in the divinity hall under a 
celebrated professor, and as yet showed no open signs of 
rebellion. At the manse he was a frequent and privileged 
guest, not wholly because he happened to be a great man’s 
son. The minister, a sagacious judge, thought well of the 
divinity student, who in many ways recalled the Colin 
Carmichael of forty years before ; and the divinity student 
gladly and reverently sat at the minister’s feet, imbibing a 
wisdom above the wisdom of text-books. He likewise 
borrowed unfathomable treatises which he never meant to 
read. One taken away uncut and returned in the same 
virgin condition furnished the lender with the occasion for 
a caustic jest. Archy never flinched. 

“ It’s been through our hands, sir,” he replied, ‘‘and it’s 
still as good as new.” 

“ Capital ! ” cried the minister; “ you’ll do.” 

As in duty bound Archy asked sundry questions bearing 
on a career in the church ; but he was most in his element 
when luring the mentor into reminiscences of the “ battle 
of the warrior with confused noise and garments rolled in 
blood,” and as the chaplain, his memory aflame, recaptured 
the raptures of the fight, describing with infectious gusto 
how “ our cavalry ” cut up the enemy here, and “ our in- 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 39 

fantry ” took him with the bayonet there, and “ our artil- 
lery ” smashed him up yonder, Archy’s face glowed and 
Archy’s pulses danced joyously. 

But of late there was another, and yet a more potent, at- 
traction at the manse, felt through all his fibres by Archy, 
half suspected though never mentioned by the others. Be- 
tween Marjorie and himself the relations were close and 
peculiar. They began with furtive rivalry in mud-pies, 
proceeded to marbles, and were sworn comrades with the 
top for which the black-haired, bright-eyed “ girl-boy,” as 
Archy triumphantly dubbed her, was at any moment ready 
to abandon the sweetest of dolls. Then came the period 
when the boy looked disdainfully on all girls. A little later 
both went to Edinburgh — Archy to the university, Mar- 
jorie to a ladies’ college. In the city, the youth’s eyes be- 
ing miraculously opened, he devoted himself with instant 
zeal to my lady’s service, attending her to entertainments, 
providing her chosen bonbon, lying in wait to salute her 
when she took the air with her fair fellow-students, antici- 
pating her pleasure, and in general discharging the office of 
knight. These duties somewhat interfered with his prepa- 
rations for saving souls, but he told himself he would “ put 
on steam ” and land victoriously in a pulpit all in good time. 

One evening on parting with her he returned to his 
room, throbbing in a strange excitement, and feeling withal 
that the time to “ put on steam ” had come. So he sat 
down doggedly and began to read for a pending examina- 
tion. A little while he bent with exemplary grimness over 
his book. Then suddenly he lay back in his chair, thrust 
his hands into his breeches pockets as far as they would go, 
and stared very hard at the ceiling. 

“ There’s not her peer in Edinburgh,” he said to himself 
presently ; “ no, nor out of it, either.” 

Thereupon the Hebrew text-book went fluttering into a 


40 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

corner, and the divinity student, who meant to read sedately 
until three in the morning, seized paper and pen and began 
to write in as fine a frenzy as ever inspired poet. The 
gush of feeling resulted in a song to ‘‘ The Lass of Aber- 
fourie ” which the maker thought not unworthy of Burns 
in his happiest moment. 

Marjorie had it by the first post next day, and Archy 
thought of it and its reception all through the forenoon 
lecture. In the evening came a note gracefully praising 
the poetry and saying how delightful it was to be a heroine, 
but intimating the writer should be displeased if he broke 
his studies any more with such frivolities. 

“ I cannot believe,’’ she wrote, with the merciless can- 
dour of the Carmichaels, “ that love-songs will ever help 
Mr. Archibald Buchanan to a pulpit.” 

In his vexation Archy said certain things which stricken 
young gentlemen are apt to say on such occasions ; as for 
example that she might go to France for him, and that she 
wasn’t the last or only girl in the world. Nevertheless an 
hour later he was writing a Byronic appeal to “ A Haughty 
Mistress.” Marjorie found the second set of verses very 
good indeed as verses, but woefully lacking in truth. She 
wasn’t haughty, as he ought to know. On the contrary, 
she was deeply interested in his success, and would he stick 
to his books ? 

“ The infernal little torturer,” cfied Archy ; and forth- 
with laid plans of conquest. He meant to attack boldly, 
but the enemy proved so gay, so agreeable, so full of raillery, 
and withal so resourceful and elusive, that his best efforts 
were foiled. 

“Well,” he said bluntly at last, “you know I love you, 
anyway. You can’t deny that.” 

“ I won’t try,” she answered gaily, “ and indeed I should 
expect as much from an old, old friend.” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 4t 

‘‘ Marjorie/’ he cried with the anguish of the desperate 
lover, “ why will you go on pouring oil on fire ? ” 

Whereat she became grave with a ludicrous gravity, 
chided him for being foolish, and begged him to be friends. 
This was the state of affairs when both returned to Aber- 
fourie for the summer. 

Then the situation was unexpectedly complicated. 
Archy had counted on leisure and opportunity to win the 
prize, and lo, a competitor ! Archy bit his lip, and pri- 
vately swore a great oath. 

Years before the rivals had known each other, and more 
recently had met in Edinburgh. They might have been 
more than formal friends but for the social caprice which 
bids the officer to the dance and leaves the divinity student 
to his chopped straw. They were in the same city, they 
walked the same streets, met, shook hands, exchanged news 
of the Highlands and the old folk at home, and agreed the 
weather was fine or the reverse. Otherwise they were 
continents apart. While Archy to his soul’s discontent 
gorged old books, Ivor moved in the lustre of drawing- 
rooms and the smiles of a multitude of mammas and charm- 
ing daughters. This Archy partly knew, partly guessed 
without any stirrings of envy. What he neither knew nor 
guessed was that in his goings to and fro Ivor had managed 
to pay tender attentions to Marjorie, and that her heart 
thrilled responsively. When a suspicion of the truth 
flashed on him, is it any wonder he got suddenly hot, bit 
his lip, and swore to himself a great oath ? 


CHAPTER VII 


While they were in the midst of their greetings — Ivor, 
smiling, the pink of well-bred urbanity, Archy, not to be 
outdone, courteously putting a fair face on hostility, Mar- 
jorie in a crimson turmoil between the two while they 
stood thus elaborately polite and perfectly aware of the 
futility of dissembled feelings — the door opened and in 
walked the minister. He had heard the singing in the re- 
moteness of his study, and paused, cheek on hand, listen- 
ing. Then flinging his Sunday exhortations aside he de- 
scended upon the drawing-room, bent on discovery. He 
was not surprised to see its occupants ; but as he shook 
hands with the guests there was a look in his face which 
puzzled both, and sent Marjorie hurriedly back to the piano. 
By the merest accident it happened that she read the music 
upside down. 

“ I was at Tigh-an-Eas this afternoon,” remarked Mr. 
Carmichael to Ivor, taking a chair, “ but hadn’t the pleas- 
ure of seeing you.” 

“ I was out, sir,” answered Ivor, flushing in spite of a 
resolution to be cool. 

He turned away quickly, begging Marjorie to sing again. 
But to that ordeal Marjorie could no longer trust herself, 
so murmuring an excuse she bent forward and struck at 
random into the wail of a pibroch, a thing she had often 
played to her father. 

“ Dearie me, that’s too sad, isn’t it ? ” she said, casting 
a glance over her shoulder, and broke into a quick step 
which, Ivor once told her, had sent the Black Watch to a 
glorious victory. 


42 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 43 

‘‘ Splendid ! ’’ cried the young soldier when the piece 
was at an end. “You have given it all the exultation of 
battle.” 

The smile she gave him in return stabbed Archy to 
the heart. Certain things are unendurable, and he rose 
abruptly to go. Feeling that conversation was impossible, 
Ivor also rose ; and the minister, saying he must have a 
mouthful of fresh air, clapped on his wide-awake and went 
out with them. 

Archy’s way was downward to the village which lay 
glimmering duskily beside its historic river, a piece of fairy 
enchantment. Ivor went upward, and with him Mr. 
Carmichael. For a little they walked in silence, as if under 
the spell of the hushed and charmed night. The stars 
shone wistfully, making a luminous twilight. Close at 
hand were the clustered woods, darkly brooding, and farther 
off the great company of hills, massed like a cordon of 
watching monsters. There was not so much stir as is made 
by the rustling of green leaves. The winds were asleep, 
drugged, as it might seem, with perfume. Even the voice 
of rushing waters, of riotous hill-burns, was swallowed in 
the great hush. 

The minister lifted his face to the sky in a kind of 
ecstasy. 

“ It’s very fine, sir,” said Ivor softly, following the up- 
lifted gaze. 

“ Unspeakably fine,” returned the minister ; and then 
after a moment’s musing, “ Canst thou loose the bands of 
Orion or guide Arcturus with his sons F You remember when 
Napoleon was on his way to Egypt and those about him 
were arguing there is no God, he pointed to the starry 
heavens, remarking, ‘ Very ingenious, gentlemen, but who 
made all that ? Who made all that to shine through the 
summer night ? ’ ” 


44 the eternal QUEST 

There was a tremour in the strong voice, to which Ivor 
trembled responsively. 

‘‘ There is a God, sir,” he said, with awed conviction. 

The minister turned eagerly. 

“ Stick to that,” he cried, “ that’s the thing for a soldier 
to go to battle on. Only a fool would doubt it, and a fool 
was never yet a good soldier.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” said Ivor, subdued and grateful as a 
child. 

The reserve broken, they talked of many things — of the 
high art of war, of defeats and victories, and what a soldier 
has to do and endure — and all the while there burned on 
Ivor’s tongue something a thousand times more important 
than the routing of enemies or the raising and tumbling of 
thrones. He was well-nigh desperate when at last he 
managed to strike in, feeling that a forlorn hope is mild and 
easy compared to what he was now adventuring. 

“ You remarked in the drawing-room, sir,” he began, 
“ that you were at Tigh-an-Eas this afternoon but didn’t 
see me.” 

His chest was painfully tight, his voice like a stranger’s. 
The minister, too, felt a rising agitation, but he kept his 
lips closed and waited. 

“ In regard to that, sir,” pursued Ivor, “ I owe you an 
apology.” 

‘‘An apology ? ” The words were repeated with well- 
feigned surprise. 

“Yes, sir,” went on Ivor, mad to get to the point, “ an 
apology for detaining Miss Carmichael. It was all my 
fault that she was out so late — and I’m — I’m afraid Mrs. 
Carmichael was uneasy.” 

The minister thought of what he had seen on the seat 
below the firs. Should he keep his secret, or 

“ Yes,’’ he said, without deciding. 


45 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

And at that the man who would have charged a blazing 
battery, fiercely glad at the chance, faltered like a coward. 
The darkling landscape began to dance, the stars reeled 
drunkenly in the heavens. The minister, his own heart 
beating riotously, waited in silence. 

“ The fact is, sir,” Ivor continued presently, with a 
desperate effort to swallow a lump in his throat, ‘‘ there is 
something about which I particularly wished to speak to 
you.” 

The minister wheeled to attention, and with the rush of 
a bursting dam came the declaration of Ivor’s love for Mar- 
jorie and the appeal for parental sanction. 

“ I want something to keep before me, some one to come 
back for when the war is over,” cried the pleader. “ I 
know,” he added, as if self-depreciation were the high road 
to victory — “ I know I’m not worthy of her, though in her 
generosity she contradicts that. I don’t deserve her, but 
I’ll do my best.” 

“ Then you have spoken to her ? ” said the minister. 

“ I couldn’t help it, sir,” answered Ivor. 

“ Oh, my dear Ivor,” cried the minister, all his reserve 
and calm gone, “ I love you as a son and I would give all 
I possess that you had not spoken to her or to me.” 

Ivor gasped as in choking pain. 

“ Then you don’t believe me worthy of her ? ” he said, 
acute despair in his voice. 

A burning pity and remorse thrilled through the minister. 

“No, no; not that,” he returned quickly — “not that. 
The unworthiness is not in you.” 

“ Not in me ? ” cried Ivor, with sudden revulsion of 
feeling. “ You must not say that, sir. If there be un- 
worthiness, it is not in Marjorie. Forgive me for saying so, 
but fathers are sometimes blind. You cannot know how 
good and true-hearted she is.” 


46 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“I know/’ replied the minister unsteadily. ‘^Yes, I 
know ; but I thank you all the same.” 

“ And you won’t give her to me,” said Ivor. 

The minister was dumb. He could not say nay, he 
durst not say yea ; so he said nothing. Ivor waited frantic- 
ally, five feet ten of throbbing arteries. 

“ Am I right, sir, in concluding you refuse ? ” he asked, 
his mouth so dry it seemed to crackle. 

The minister passed a hand over his brow, which was 
coldly damp, despite the sultry heat of the night. 

“ Let us continue friends, Ivor,” he returned, a note of 
keenest anguish in his voice. “ Don’t ask me.” 

It was then that a sudden suspicion flashed upon Ivor. 

“ Has my father been saying anything to you about 
this ? ” he demanded with a touch of hardness. 

“ And if he has ? ” 

“ Then if he is against it, I ask you, sir, not to violate 
your own feelings. He may be mistaken in all his objec- 
tions ; I assure you he is mistaken.” 

“ He is my old friend and commanding officer,” rejoined 
the minister. “ I owe him more than I could tell in a 
month. Besides, you are going away. The change, the 
distractions of war, new faces, new friends — ay, perhaps 
new affections, will alter the drift of your thoughts.” 

“May God strike me dead if they do,” cried Ivor. “ I 
want to go away, sir, with permission to come back for 
Marjorie. By the camp fire I want to feel she is waiting, 
thinking of me. It will be the best incentive to duty.” 

That was a slip, and the chaplain was on him like a 
hawk. 

“ It was never in the Malcolms to shirk duty,” he said 
firmly. “Your father’s son needs no such incentive.” 

“ I thank you for the correction, sir,” said Ivor. “ I’ve 
heard that on the queen’s commission and his superior’s 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 47 

orders a British officer would storm the gates of hell. But, 
sir, there are things he holds dearer still.” 

“ Humanly speaking, nothing,” contradicted the minister. 

“At any rate, sir, there are things that make duty 
sweet.” 

But the chaplain was not to be moved or lured into 
damaging concessions. 

“ I have never disobeyed my commanding officer,” he 
said, when pressed more fervidly still, “ and Pm not going 
to begin now. Good-night , God bless you. If my prayers 
avail. He will.” 

He wrung IvoPs hand and was off, never once looking 
back. The next minute he was lost in the darkness of the 
woods. 

He walked with a quick step and a head awhirl, but over 
the tumult of his thoughts one decision was clear and com- 
forting. He had trampled on his dearest wish, and rejoiced 
in the trampling. 

“The general will never have it to say that Colin 
Carmichael failed in the hour of trial,” he said to himself j 
“ never.” 

Emerging from the gloom of a thicket he was conscious 
of a lonely figure in the road. In his preoccupation he 
would have passed without look or greeting, but the figure 
hailed him. 

“ Good-night again, sir.” 

“ Good-night,” returned the minister, pulling up. “ Oh, 
Archy, it’s you. What on earth are you doing here at 
this time of night ? ” 

“ Taking the air, sir,” replied Archy, “ and — and waiting 
for a word with you, if Pm not intruding.” 

“ Old friends mustn’t talk of intruding,” rejoined Mr. 
Carmichael. “ Another stumbling-block in theology ? ” 

“ N — no, sir, not exactly,” answered Archy doubtfully. 


48 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 


“ Well, and what’s wrong, then ? ” asked Mr. Carmi- 
chael, not without a hint of impatience. 

Something gripped Archy by the throat, so that he could 
not answer immediately. 

“You know, sir,” he said, when the agony of suffocation 
ceased a little, “ that Miss Carmichael and myself have 
long been friends, and ” 

“ And have ceased to be friends by tumbling head over 
heels into love,” put in the minister. 

Archy laughed nervously. 

“ Don’t speak of it,” added the minister, moving on. 
“ There’s no need to tell me how disquieting and uncom- 
fortable it is to be in love.” 

Archy kept step fearfully. 

“ But, sir, I wanted to ask you ” 

“ A few embarrassing questions,” said the minister. 
“ No, no, Archy, wise men must not give way to mid- 
summer madness, which will pass if we only keep a stout 
heart. It’s hot, but it’ll be cooler weather by and by. 
Here’s the turning to the manse. It’s time all Christians 
were in bed. Good-night, Archy. Come up to see me 
soon.” 

And Archy was left staring in petrifaction. 


CHAPTER VIII 


When Mr. Carmichael disappeared Ivor swung on his 
heel, a sudden anger against his father kindled in his heart. 

“I won’t endure it,” he said to himself, making for 
home with the stride of wrath. “ I’ll have it out.” 

Ordinarily at that hour he would have gone meekly to 
his aunt, the adjutant-general, got something to eat, and 
slipped off quietly to bed ; but now, being hot with a sense 
of wrong, his object was instant satisfaction. A light 
burned in the library. 

“ He’s there,” concluded Ivor and marched in. He 
opened the door with an extra beat of the heart, and a 
noise due mostly to haste and agitation. The general 
looked up quickly. His face was grim with the grimness 
of battle ; and in fact he had that very moment flung half 
a brigade of cavalry among an enemy’s guns. His own 
arm had been infantry ; but he ever felt himself a born 
cavalry leader, and now he was working out magnificently 
in the great work on strategy movements which fate had 
made impossible in the field. His blood was up, and no 
man could look unperturbed in the face of “ fighting Mal- 
colm ” when he was in the slaughtering mood. 

“ Well ? ” he said brusquely. 

As he looked, the thick white brows gathered over the 
Wellington nose, his son understood what it is to interrupt 
a scarred determined veteran in the heat of the fight. The 
surging tide which had carried Ivor thither, almost without 
his knowing how, all at once ebbed, leaving him stranded 
face to face with this iron authority. There was no longer 
any question of attack j it was entirely one of decent retreat. 

49 


50 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“You are busy, sir,’" he said apologetically. 

“ Yes, very busy,” answered the general, making as if to 
resume work. “ By the way,” he added, lifting his head 
again, “ why weren’t you at dinner this evening ? ” 

“ I was out and really didn’t notice the hour until it was 
too late,” replied Ivor humbly. “ I hope I didn’t incon- 
venience aunt.” 

The general drew himself up. He sat as straight on a chair 
as on a horse, and that was as a pattern to a drum-major. 

“ I wonder,” he said, “ what your colonel would say to 
such absence of mind as an excuse for broken rules. I 
know,” he added grimly, “ what I would. Have you 
dined ? ” 

“No, sir,” answered Ivor, trying by look and tone to 
insinuate that dining was a matter of no consequence. 

“ Then go to your aunt and see what can be foraged 
for you. When you’ve had something to cat, come back 
to me.” 

He sat forward as if no more were to be said, and re- 
sumed operations. 

“ Ah,” he thought, “ cavalry are helpless against infantry 
in position ; but they’re hell among the guns.” 

He sat closer, writing vehemently. His lips were tight, 
his jaw was set and hard. You might imagine the mouth 
had closed with a snap after giving an order of extermina- 
tion, not to open again until it was executed. Any one 
peeping in then would have seen the face which has fur- 
nished the British army with a proverb. When his men 
saw it in action they knew it meant death or victory — 
usually victory — and their own faces hardened in emula- 
tion. It was said he had an angel’s face at mess and a 
devil’s in the field — if the other side were nasty. He had 
now with considerable difficulty manoeuvred an obstinate 
foe into a trap, and was annihilating him. 


51 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

Meanwhile Ivor was dining penitentially ofF cold chicken. 
His aunt would have given orders for a fresh dinner had 
he allowed her. That being forbidden, she watched over 
him as he ate, chiding his sisters for pressing so close upon 
him “ the poor boy could hardly get fork to mouth.” 

“ Auntie dear, he’s going to leave us, and we’re making 
the most of him,” said Flora. 

“ It’s a queer way of showing kindness to keep a hungry 
body from eating,” rejoined the adjutant-general, and urged 
Ivor not to be daunted. 

They talked heroics of war, dwelling with wild glee on 
the glory of laurelled victors, who invariably belonged to 
Highland regiments. Then all at once, like a black cloud 
in a summer sky, came the thought that this big handsome 
hero whom they adored might fall a sacrifice in that glori- 
ously terrible game in which victory is snatched from death, 
and death is ever a gainer. 

Coleena flung her arms about his neck, her eyes gleam- 
ing with tears ; and the adjutant-general, her own firm lip 
trembling, rebuked her for the folly. She would depress 
Ivor, who was going away to distinguish himself, “ as all 
the Malcolms did,” and would return his countiy’s hero as 
well as theirs. Since the adjutant-general was ruling provi- 
dence in the house, Coleena dried her eyes and laughed 
again. 

“ He’ll have medals and decorations like papa,” she cried. 

“ Maybe a V.C.,” suggested Flora. 

“Will you have a V.C. ? ” asked Coleena. “Let me 
see,” putting her face so close to his that he felt her warm 
sweet breath ; “ that’s the spot for it,” and she planted a 
finger on his breast. 

“Would you come back with a V.C. ? ” he said, catch- 
ing and kissing her. 

“Maybe, if they gave me a chance,” she answered, 


52 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

flinging back a mass of tousled hair. “But they don’t give 
girls a chance. I could be brave as well as you.” 

“ I don’t doubt it,” he rejoined, looking into her eyes. 

“You are making fun of me,” she cried, and pulled his 
moustache, proud to be made fun of by such a brother. 

“ By the way, where did you leave Marjorie ? ” inquired 
Flora, with a sudden sweep to extraneous matters. The 
question had been in her mind all the evening, but there 
was no opportunity to put it sooner. 

“ Where should I leave her but at home ? ” was the 
response. 

With that Ivor rose, saying he was under orders to attend 
his father, and must leave them. As the door closed be- 
hind him the girls exchanged significant looks. Then 
hastily kissing their aunt good-night, they went upstairs to 
talk matters over. 

“ I’m quite sure I’m right,” said Flora, concentrating 
all the shrewdness and wisdom of eighteen and a half in her 
tone. “Yes, I’m convinced Ivor’s in love with Marjorie.” 

Coleena stared an instant as if trying to take in the 
momentous opinion ; then clapped her hands, executing a 
pirouette. 

“ Oh,” she cried, “ and we’ll have her for a sister.” 

“ A sister-in-law,” corrected Flora sedately. 

“Well, it’s all the same,” retorted Coleena. 

“ Not quite,” rejoined Flora. “ A sister-in-law is not 
exactly the same as a real born sister. And if he marries 
her he’ll take her away with him wherever he goes, so that 
we can’t see much of her.” 

“ Will he take her away now ? ” asked Coleena, catching 
her breath. 

“ No, you silly. He’s going away to the wars, and what 
use has a man for a wife when he’s going away to the 
wars ? ” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 53 

‘‘You said he’d take her wherever he went,” retorted 
Coleena with a toss of her golden head. 

“ Did papa take mamma to the wars ? ” demanded Flora 
severely. 

“ I don’t know,” answered Coleena. “ If I married a 
soldier. I’d like to go with him when he’s fighting.” 

“ Oh, Coleena, you ridiculous, improper thing ! ” cried 
Flora. “ They don’t want women and children and things 
of that sort when they’re fighting. Hasn’t papa said a 
thousand times that the less baggage they have in a cam- 
paign the better. Why, Coleena, you’d fill half-a-dozen 
waggons with bandboxes and perfume cases.” 

“ And you wouldn’t,” retorted Coleena. “ My lady 
doesn’t care for fine dresses and perfume cases ! And,” 
she continued with the gusto of one who finds a joint in 
the harness, “ you never blush when Archy Buchanan looks 
at you, and you’re always able to keep your eyes off him in 
church on Sunday.” 

“ Coleena, if you insinuate absurd things I won’t speak to 
you,” said Flora ; whereupon she stood up a palpitating white 
figure before a mirror, and let fall a shower of fair hair. 

“ Oh, well, I won’t then, dear,” responded Coleena con- 
tritely, sidling up to her sister. “ Only you mustn’t say 
absurd things to me. And indeed, Flo, Archy’s very nice. 
I studied him all over the other day. I wish he was going 
to be a soldier, like Ivor, and not a preacher.” 

“ And you’d marry him.” 

The remark came caustically over Flora’s left shoulder. 

“ I would,” said Coleena decisively. 

Flora turned quickly. 

“ How old are you, child ? ” she demanded, the austerity 
of three score in her countenance. 

“You might remember that,” replied Coleena. “It’s 
not so long since I got my last birthday presents.” 


54 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“Talking of marrying with your hair still down! ** said 
Flora sternly. “You naughty girl. Til report you to 
auntie, and then you’ll catch it.” 

“ If auntie knew you were trying to imitate her and 
spoiling the thing, you’d catch it more,” rejoined Coleena, 
going off in a fit of laughter. 

All at once she stopped, finger on lip, listening. A step 
was on the stair. 

“ Ivor,” she said, and ran out to get a final good-night 
caress. Flora following. 

His brow was dark, his eyes flashing. 

“ He treats me like a boy, or an orderly,” he told them 
resentfully. 

“ What’s wrong ? ” asked Coleena, a deep concern over- 
shadowing her face, and Flora added eagerly : 

“Tell us what’s wrong.” 

But while they asked it came to Ivor that he must not 
tell. 

“ Oh, nothing,” he said, and passed on. They stood 
motionless till they heard the noise of his slammed door, 
then returned to their own room, convinced that great 
events were in the wind. 


CHAPTER IX 


Like all men who accomplish anything worth naming, 
General Malcolm was capable of prodigious labour in- 
definitely sustained. When his son returned he was fin- 
ishing off a thrilling victory. Position after position had 
been taken, mostly by tactical skill. His artillery had 
played with beautiful precision, breeching here, knocking 
guns to pieces there, and then, while the bayonet cleared 
trenches, lance and sabre cut up flank and rear, completing 
the rout. It was all nicely arranged, and consummately 
executed. 

Ivor had never seen his father’s face so set and terrible; 
but then he had never seen it lurid with battle smoke and 
the light of hard-won victory. 

“ I have come too soon, sir ? ” he said half fearfully. 

“ Rather too soon,” answered the general, hardly looking 
up. “ Let us put off our talk till the morning.” 

Ivor murmured assent and withdrew. So there was to be 
a talk, and not of his seeking. Umph ! 

He went to his room, passing his sisters as we have seen, 
drew aside the curtain from the open window, and thrust 
out his head for coolness. It chanced that the outlook was 
downward. He could see the nestling town below the 
woods, and the Tay — here gleaming in ripply shallow, 
there glooming in the oily foam-flecked pools where he 
knew the bull-trout lurked. Directly beneath him glim- 
mered the bow of Wade’s crook-backed bridge (that had 
borne Charlie’s men and Cumberland’s), and beyond, 
stretching to the black feet of precipices fifty fathoms sheer, 
the field forever associated with his beloved Black Watch, 

55 


56 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

Am Freiceadan Dubh, What things they had seen and 
done since that first muster in May, 1740 ! 

A magnetic attraction brought his eyes back. Aberfourie 
slept a sound God-fearing sleep. Respectable men in 
nightcaps were snoring bravely at the stars, their spouses 
doubtless loyally aiding and abetting. Maidens were dream- 
ing : heavens ! what were maidens dreaming ? What do 
maidens dream when their fair heads rest on midnight pil- 
lows, and they smile as at invisible tickling ? Who shall 
write the charmed book of maiden dreams or light the 
nightly secrets of the maiden heart ? 

Drawing a chair to the window Ivor leaned out, elbows 
on sill, full of a weird, sweet disquiet. The air comforted 
like old wine. A gentle breeze, softer than the zephyrs of 
the poets, began to stir, as if the stars, palpitating in the 
dead summer heat, had moved the winds to fan them. 
There arose a murmuring and a whispering of leaves as 
though some mystic message were running from bough to 
bough. Waves of perfume passed over the drunken earth. 
Mysterious creatures of the night were abroad, and the 
great Mother was cooing to them in bland delight. 

A kind of awe came upon Ivor, for though he was a 
soldier he was also a Highlander and imaginative. Partly 
to amuse, partly to reassure himself, he began to count the 
lights in the sleeping town. Aberfourie has gasworks and 
street lamps, and authority decrees that some of these shall 
twinkle at the summer stars. Here and there also a solitary 
taper shone in a window, and on one in particular Ivor’s 
eye fastened. Could it be ? Yes, he felt it could ; and at 
that he leaned forth so impetuously that he nearly over- 
balanced and fell. His impulse was to drop to the ground, 
make straight down through every impediment of hedge or 
bramble, creep under that window, and whisper Romeo 
vows. God of lovers, what it must have been in the grand 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 57 

old time, when a man, gripping his sword hilt, took his 
heart’s desire, and stood the reckoning afterwards ! 

With throbbing pulses Ivor turned back into his cham- 
ber, opened the door cautiously, and peered out. All was 
dark and so still he could have heard the tread of a cat. 
His father had plainly crumpled up the enemy and gone to 
bed, and the others were unconscious long ago. Closing 
the door noiselessly, he lighted a candle and waved it at 
the window. He held his breath, watching with unwink- 
ing eyes for a response. One second, two seconds, three, 
four. He gasped ; it could not be she ! Then his heart 
jumped and stopped. Were his eyes dazzling or was 
there a light answering his ? Again he waved, and this 
time clear and unmistakable came the response. All his 
pulses beat deliriously ; his head whirled. Before he knew 
what he was about he was leaning out, his arms stretched 
as if they would clasp at half a mile’s distance. Then 
he pulled back, shaking with excitement, and a sense of 
futility. 

It happens in midsummer nights in the north that the 
wind rises suddenly, rustles for a little, and falls as if faint 
or out of breath. An unbroken hush was again in pos- 
session of the world. Ivor held the lighted candle outside, 
dipping as in salute, and quick as love flashed the acknowl- 
edgment from below. There followed an ardent conver- 
sation by improvised code lasting perhaps two minutes. 
Then owing to much ardour Ivor’s candle was blown out. 
In the act of striking a match to relight it, he turned his 
head and his eye caught sight of another head thrust out of 
a window not twenty feet away. The match did not fall 
from his fingers, but it was not struck. 

“ Very interesting,” came in the general’s voice and the 
tone which freezes. “A most admirably arranged code of 
signals, and quite original, I imagine. But I thought 


58 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

‘ lights out ’ had sounded some time ago. Breakfast will be 
at half-past seven punctually.” 

“ Very well, sir,” answered Ivor, stewing coldly. 

“ Good-night.” 

“ Good-night, sir.” 

As Ivor's head disappeared he noted that the light below 
had disappeared also. 


CHAPTER X 


It was remarked that the Malcolms were born with a 
drop of Spartan in the blood. Male and female alike 
they were stern disciplinarians, masterful, resolute, clear- 
sighted as hawks, too relentless in the swoop, and withal 
tender and lovable every soul of them. Some went into 
the army and made a name when England wanted the im- 
possible executed quickly and effectively j others stayed at 
home to plague the easy-going with untiring activity and 
the slovenly with rigorous order. Victims growled that 
the women were more despotic than the men — witness the 
adjutant-general, who had never learned to wink at fault or 
relinquish a purpose. Rough handling in the world had 
given her brother more or less ductility. He had foibles 
and sympathies on which the cunning could play. With 
Miss Malcolm the most gifted player ended in grief, sudden 
and pitiable. 

Devoted to an inhuman perfection, her domestic economy 
was a model of military precision. Servants and tradesmen 
got explicit orders, and if they failed once without satisfac- 
tory cause, a second chance rarely came to them. 

“You see I cannot trust you,” the adjutant-general 
would say with a sorrow more impressive than any anger. 

But as she never dismissed from caprice and rewarded 
loyalty, she inspired the devotion of which the born leader 
alone has the secret. Her nod of approval was therefore 
more than the gushing testimonials of others. 

Sister and brother were early risers — she from innate en- 
ergy, he from the military habit and long experience of the 
Eastj and it was expected that every member of the family, 

59 


6o THE ETERNAL QUEST 

with guests when there were any, would sit down to break- 
fast punctually at the appointed hour. 

Exactly at half-past seven next morning, therefore, she 
requested the general to say grace, all being assembled and 
ready. The breakfast was deliciously savoury — a dish of 
hill trout caught in the dawn, and sent in “ with Mr. Archi- 
bald Buchanan’s compliments,” new-laid eggs, piles of home- 
made scone, whiter than snow and “ readier than butter to 
melt in the mouth ” ; with coffee — the general insisted on 
coffee — and cream thick as the clotted cream of Devonshire 
and a great deal sweeter. 

Disagreeable topics were rigidly excluded from table. On 
this point the general would accept no compromise. 

“ I never paid an enemy the compliment of allowing him 
to disturb my digestion,” he declared. “ The man who 
admits trouble either to bed or to board had better say his 
prayers and go aloft at once to escape misery.” 

On that admirable principle he ate with relish, praising 
the trout, and particularly commending Archy’s custom of 
being up with the sun. A camp axiom came patly in con- 
firmation : “ When a man turns over it is time to turn out; 
a love of blankets is the beginning of failure.” 

He was the only one of the company who took the pres- 
ent gifts of Providence with visible zest. The young peo- 
ple, indeed, murmured in low chorus that the trout were very 
sweet, and that it was good of Archy to remember Tigh- 
an-Eas so gracefully ; but their thoughts were busy with 
other things. A manifest restraint weighed upon them. 
Flora glanced at Coleena, Coleena at Flora, and both fur- 
tively at Ivor. The adjutant-general, sensitive as a barom- 
eter, cast disturbing looks all round. Ivor was self-con- 
scious and ill at ease. The trout stuck in his throat, the 
scone which Janet the cook had made especially for him 
would not melt, and the coffee was flavourless. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 6i 

Breakfast over, he accompanied his father to the library. 
The previous evening’s work lay scattered on the table in 
loose sheets. The general picking them up read a phrase 
here and there, then a sentence, then a paragraph. In a 
minute the old glow was revived. 

“You’ve been last at school,” he cried. “Listen to 
this,” and he read a passage aloud. 

“ That’s good, sir,” said Ivor, honest admiration lighting 
his face. 

“ Thank you,” returned the general politely. “ Well 
there’s forty years’ fighting more or less in it, besides mor- 
sels of useful knowledge excluded from staff colleges. He’s 
a poor foe who doesn’t teach more than headquarters’ staff 
ever dreamed of learning. I tell you I’m amazed when I 
find how the dandies of Pall Mall tempt fate. What do 
you think I saw at manoeuvres soon after my return from 
the East Nothing less than artillery posting away from 
its escort for all the world as if proud of the feat — and no 
one asked why. Eh, Lord, how my old Sikhs would have 
grinned at the sight of those unprotected guns ! ” 

“ I can imagine the grin,” responded Ivor. 

“ If it should ever be your lot to command at such opera- 
tions,” continued the general, “ and such a thing occurs, 
have the ass who is responsible court-martialled, if he’s a 
king’s son. It may prevent disaster and damaged reputa- 
tions in the real thing, besides impressing on amateurs that 
the breaking of elementary rules is not valour but blazing 
idiocy.” 

“ Yes, sir,” said Ivor, warm with the thought of wigging 
defaulting colonels. 

“ But indeed,” pursued the general, “ the whole field 
went on the principle of giving all the advantage to the 
other side. When a Pall Mall officer jubilantly asked me 
if a certain infantry movement wasn’t very pretty, I an- 


62 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

swered, ‘ Yes very pretty, but if a battalion were handled 
like that in face of a cunning and determined foe, it would 
simply be wiped out/ ‘ Ah ! ’ he lisped, ‘ I think it’s capi- 
tal, you know, and the men look very fit ’ — and they were 
— as fit as prize oxen.” 

“ You never liked to have men too sleek in the field, sir,” 
said Ivor, delighted, as he always was when his father gave 
practical expositions of the art of war. 

“When a new regiment reaches a commander in the 
field,” rejoined the general, “ his first care, if he is not new 
himself, is to have the sleekness taken out of it with all 
possible celerity. Speaking for myself, I never liked to 
risk battle with raw material. When my men had marched 
knee deep in mud, and slept in ditches and trenches, and 
been broiled and frost-bitten, and sniped, and stained so 
that you couldn’t tell their facings, and shown courage on 
empty stomachs, then I felt I might begin to trust them. 
The home training may make machines, but the enemy 
alone converts them to soldiers — and I’m glad your chance 
has come.” 

They had sat down one on each side of the writing- 
table, and the general now bent forward, smiling. 

“ You see how ready I am to go off,” he remarked. “ I 
remember once seeing an old troop-horse harnessed to a 
hearse, and hearing a trumpet blown, bolted with the corpse. 
Horse and man, old fighters are alike. We came to talk 
of another matter, I think.” 

“You said you wished to speak with me,” answered 
Ivor, the blood beginning to drum in his ears. 

“ Quite so,” said the general lightly. “We were talking 
of discipline. Like charity and other good things, it ought, 
I believe, to begin at home. I don’t, of course, put obe- 
dience to fathers and commanding officers quite in the same 
category. It’s a commanding officer’s own fault if his orders 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 63 

hang fire. A father is not so absolute. But filial duty 
ought not to be less potent than military law. You catch 
my meaning ? ” 

“ Pm not quite sure, sir,” replied Ivor, trembling a little, 
though not with fear. 

“Well as an old campaigner Pm clean against impedi- 
menta, or let us say against giving hostages to fortune. 
Possibly that’s clearer.” 

“You refer to Marjorie ? ” said Ivor, his mouth suddenly 
getting dry. 

The general nodded. 

“ It’s pleasant to be understood without tiresome expla- 
nations,” he said, with heartbreaking placidity. “ I don’t 
know that we need go into the matter. I have mentioned 
it to my old friend Carmichael, and he is as certain as I am 
that engagements between subalterns and schoolgirls are in- 
judicious, to use no stronger word. My wish is that you 
give your mind to your profession, and his that Marjorie 
stick to her studies. I dare say time will do the rest.” 

The last words stung Ivor like an imputation of dis- 
honour. 

“ You do us both an injustice, sir,” he replied, the blood 
leaping to his face. 

The general looked at him with the hard, cold look 
which kills rebellion. 

“ I hope there will be no need of descending to argu- 
ment,” he said drily. 

“ I have never presumed to argue with you, sir,” re- 
sponded Ivor. 

“An excellent effect of the army training,” said the 
general. “ I never believed in argument ; that’s the 
powder and shot of babblers and casuists who talk and 
never do. A thing is wise and prudent or it is not. If 
it’s not, why burn your fingers with it.? You’re in luck; 


64 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

after much pulling of strings you are going off to a soldier’s 
chance.” 

“ I’m eager to go, sir — but ” 

“ I should be disappointed to hear anything else,” inter- 
rupted the general. All the time he kept that terrible grey 
eye fixed on his son. 

Now in the stillness of the night Ivor had thought out a 
nice little plan — feint of frontal attack, flanking surprise, 
turning of position and all the rest — which would have 
succeeded to perfection but for one small omission, the 
omission to take his father’s temper and schemes into 
account. It was the plan of the peace-trained tactician 
who relies on the other side to oblige him, and the other 
side was proving discourteous. Ivor braced himself for a 
supreme effort. 

“ And I wanted to go, sir, with your consent to our 
engagement,” he blurted. How he got the words out he 
couldn’t tell, but they came somehow, and he felt better. 

“ Ah ! ” said the general, bending the grey eye more 
keenly, “ ah ! ” and then in a changed tone : “ Tut, tut, a 
man going off to fight should think of no engagement but 
the engagement with the enemy. I have told you what my 
wishes and Mr. Carmichael’s are.” 

“ But, sir — ” Ivor was beginning. 

“ I expressed a hope we should not descend to argu- 
ment,” said the general quickly. “You know my mind in 
the matter, and I take that to be enough.” 

A light flashed in Ivor’s eyes and a retort sprang to his 
tongue ; but the light died instantly and the retort was 
crushed back. 

“ Very well, sir,” he answered ; and with that he rose, 
respectfully said “ Good-morning,” and walked out. For 
once it wa$ the general who was left in uncertainty. 


CHAPTER XI 


Flora and Coleena scouting outside pounced on their 
hero, and led him captive to the garden. He must see how 
beautifully Flora’s pansies took the morning sun ; he must 
admire the glow of Coleena’s roses; which, being trans- 
lated, means there were matters to fathom too deep and 
delicate for plain speech, and the pair had decided to turn 
him outside in at their leisure. Before a clump of lilacs he 
drew up, pretending to be enraptured by the whistling of a 
blackbird. To lure him from the commonplace Coleena 
plucked one of her rarest treasures, put it in his button- 
hole, and, stepping back, made him a mock curtsey. 

“ I know she’ll like that, and I’ve chosen one she can 
wear in her hair,” she cried in a ripple of laughter. 

“ Who is ‘ she ’ ? ” asked Ivor, bending his face over the 
rose. For reply Coleena picked a daisy and presented it 
with a sarcastic little bow. 

“ That’s for innocence,” she said, “ for indeed, soldiers 
are wonderfully innocent, poor fellows,” and then, as there 
trilled out the girlish laugh : “ Do you imagine, sir knight, 
we don’t see you’re in love with Marjorie ? and I know 
she’s in love with you.” 

“ Oh, Coleena, how can you ? ” cried Flora, in a tremour 
of delight and eagerness. 

“ Marjorie has told you that, I suppose,” said Ivor, with 
one of his straight military looks. 

“ Catch her ! ” returned Coleena. “ She’s just as deep as 
you. But trying to hide is only telling. Has Lieutenant 
Malcolm never found that out ? ” 

“ We’re not all born wise,” said Ivor, smiling. “ How 
did you find out .? ” 


65 


66 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ The plan is this,” replied Coleena, with sudden grav> 
ity : ‘‘ first you keep your eyes open wide — wide so 
that they’ll see all round — then you take one here and 
one there and two somewhere else, and if you put them 
together in the right way, as sure’s you’re alive they’ll 
make four.” 

“ My little sister believes that the best way of hiding the 
truth is just to tell it,” was the response. ‘‘ I’ve heard it’s 
the way of astute statesmen and diplomatists when their 
plots are particularly dark.” 

“ And that’s why you said you liked Archy Buchanan,” 
struck in Flora, with a triumphant look at Coleena. 

Ivor’s brow seemed to darken. 

“ Why, what’s this about Archy Buchanan ? ” he de- 
manded. “ Remember we don’t want any parsons in the 
family.” 

“ No, only parsons’ daughters,” retorted Coleena, taking 
his arm and laughing in his face. “ I’ll remember, and 
indeed, indeed, I love Marjorie very dearly. When is it 
to be, and have you told papa ? ” 

“I thought I came to see flowers, not to be cross- 
examined regarding my private affairs,” said Ivor. 

“ Poor thing, it doesn’t like the nasty inquisition,” cried 
Coleena, her eyes dancing in merriment. “ Well, it shall 
have pretty flowers all to itself, roses and pansies and for- 
get-me-nots. Isn’t that nice ? Come along.” 

She liked to hang about this handsome soldierly brother, 
teasingly if possible. Flora, too, adored him ; but while 
Flora was diffident in her affection, Coleena did precisely 
as her heart and the moment prompted. Both clung to 
him now like twin shadows. He was going away to the 
wars like any knight-errant of romance, and should see 
and do many heroic things before returning to them. 
Besides, he was invested with the tenderest interest that 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 67 

can stir a maiden’s curiosity. He was in love, indubitably 
he was in love. Hence he was a subject for adroit analysis, 
and they were prepared to humour him till his secrets could 
be picked. 

But to their dismay the charm of bloom and scent was 
lost on him. They summoned old Peter Fraser, the gar- 
dener, who entertained him with a pithy discourse on the 
first of the arts, and the felicity of gardeners, before a 
woman and a serpent concocted the primal mischief. 

“ Ah, sir,” said Peter dolorously, “ it was a sore day for 
our trade and the world in general when Adam forgot him- 
self in the gairden o’ Eden, though I never liked to be too 
hard on the man.” 

“To step aside is human, Peter,” said Ivor. 

“Faith, sir, mighty human,” assented Peter warmly. 
“ Put yersel’ in poor Adam’s place, sir — a hot day and 
a temptin’ apple, the best Eden could produce, likely. 
Convenience snug and a treacherous inclination, as Burns 
has it, and there ye are. It’s a pity Auld Nick got sneakin’ 
in ; it was like him to take advantage. As for Eve, the 
hissy should have been tarred and feathered for listenin’ 
to the like o’ him. I never could make out, and no 
minister has ever been able to tell me, why the Lord 
created her without a pickle o’ sense, though no doot it 
was to try Adam.” 

Flora and Coleena drew off among their flowers, and 
Peter went on confidentially : 

“ She did try him too, and I tell you, sir, to this day a 
man needs to mind what he’s about among the women. 
They’re kittle cattle, sir. One minute ye think ye hev 
them, they’re so sweet and agreeable honey’s nothing to 
them ; the next they’re either hoity-toity or bizzin’ at ye 
like a byke o’ angry bees. It’s not for a poor gairdener 
to be questionin’ the wisdom o’ Providence, but it’s my 


68 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

honest opinion that do away with the petticoats and we 
might get over the fall yet.” 

“ Pooh ! ” said Coleena, who returned with a handful of 
flowers just in time to hear the end of Peter’s speech. 
“ The world couldn’t get on a day without them. You’d 
rust to death if it weren’t for Mrs. Fraser.” 

“ Indeed, Miss Coleena, and that’s true,” responded 
Peter cheerfully. 

He had buried two wives in hope of better luck to come, 
adventured a third time, and was still vainly seeking happi- 
ness. Yet even to one grievously disappointed in the sex 
it was a pleasure to agree with Miss Coleena. 

“ Rust to death ? ’Deed, it’s likely,” he added, as if 
turning over the matter in his mind. “ A wife keeps a 
man from rustin’.” 

In another mood Ivor might have stayed to enlarge his 
knowledge on subjects of practical as well as romantic 
interest to bachelors ; but it happened he was not in quest 
of information, so he absently nodded assent, smiled, and 
passed on, with a word of encouragement about Peter’s 
later Eden. Flora and Coleena became more sedulously 
attentive, and he rewarded them with the abrupt intimation 
that he was going ofF hill-climbing. Coleena paused, look- 
ing hard at him for a moment, then clapped her hands 
jubilantly. 

A capital idea; they would go with him. He rejoined 
that he meant to have a stiff spin to a certain height a good 
ten miles distant. Glorious ! In that case they would put 
up a light luncheon, something easily portable to refresh 
them on the top, and would be ready in a jiffy. With 
great consideration he pointed out that for half the way 
it would be a tramp through bogs and for the other half a 
hand-and-knee scramble over scarp and rock. He knew 
their marching power, but they were out of training, 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 69 

and would be blown before they were well started ; in short, 
a brother solicitous for their comfort and good looks could 
not endure to see them fatigued and bemired. The reference 
to good looks told, and under cover of that adroit con- 
cern he got away, with Bob, the household collie, for sole 
companion. 

O sweet Oliver, 

O brave Oliver, 

Leave me not behind thee,’* 

Coleena sang after him in bantering supplication. “ I 
know some one you’d carry through the bogs.” 

He turned at that, waving his cap, and they blew him a 
shower of kisses. Then, as he went swiftly on over a 
knoll, they took a quiet walk by themselves, discussing the 
mysterious oVdeal of falling in love, and wondering, since 
Ivor was so perturbed, how Marjorie felt. 

Ivor for his part strode on, glad to escape to the fellow- 
ship of his own thoughts. Many things would happen 
before he could wade the heather again. Glory might be 
won ; certainly dark heart’s blood would be spilt, and joy 
and woe come unsought to thousands. In imagination he 
saw bright eyes red with weeping and fair faces frantic 
with grief ; then other faces radiant at seeing heroes back 
again, laurel crowned. The individual, we know, thinks 
all men mortal but himself. No soldier can admit the idea 
that the missile has been forged which is to seek and find 
him at the appointed time and place. Ivor had scant 
thought of wounds or death, but much of separation and 
return, as he pushed on across pastures red and white with 
clover, then through woods thick with bluebells and up- 
lands of broom, to the open moorland where the curlew 
cries and the blackcock whirs. Under the stimulus of the 
rarefied air and the illimitable sunlit spaces his heart rose 
and his step grew joyously elastic. 


70 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

It was a perfect Highland day — the sky a cool fleckless 
azure, the sunshine tempered by a sweet heather-scented 
breeze. Looking out across the warm brown heath, you 
would scarce have fancied it the chosen playground of 
tempests. Yet flocks and their keepers had perished there 
in the raging night, cut ofF suddenly from human aid. The 
summer look it now wore had no hint of the winter sleet 
and hail, the swirl of smothering snow, the hidden pit and 
treacherous ditch that gave Monadh Dubh — the Black 
Moor — an evil name. The brindled hills, too, laughed 
jocundly in their sun-bath, shimmering as if clothed in 
rainbows. On the shoulders of the remoter mountains a 
light haze hung like an ethereal robe veiling into airy grace 
and purple softness all harshness of crag and chasm. 
The nearer hills laughed openly like a girl whose gladness 
cannot be concealed. To be out on that perfumed sun- 
flooded moor, tramping the springy heather, lifting the fore- 
head to the free breeze, was a delectable intoxication. Ivor 
raced with Bob, leaping pits and streams as if the school- 
boy of ten years before were miraculously restored ; and 
after each hot race he flung himself prone among the heather, 
drinking spiced sunshine. Yes, it was a perfect Highland 
day. 

He had honestly meant to walk to that mountain top 
ten miles distant, but stretched panting with delight, he 
asked himself. Why ? That ineffable day was not given 
for set or burdensome tasks. Why should he toil a slave 
to whimsical humour when Nature wooed him with 
“ honied breath ” to lie and bask ? So he climbed one of 
the smaller hills forming the footguard of the mountains, 
and there on the warm lichened top of a great hoar rock 
lay down. The world and all the beauty thereof were 
spread before him — eagle-haunted peak and green valley 
and dusky forest and fair fertile plain and glinting stream — 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 71 

but his thoughts were not of these as he dreamily sucked a 
dead Havana. 

He was in other realms when Bob, crouched beside him 
in sleepy ease, suddenly lifted his head and growled. Turn- 
ing half round in the direction of his look, Ivor saw a man 
approaching. 

“ H’m,’' he said, recognising Archy, and frowned as one 
frowns at sight of an unwelcome visitor. A minute later 
the two were shaking hands and looking into each other’s 
eyes, heedless of the empty greeting, then, sitting down 
together, they let their eyes wander over the shining world. 

“ Paradise, isn’t it ? ” said Archy, with a pretence of 
admiration. 

“Yes,” responded Ivor, “as regards climate and scenery 
one could hardly wish for anything better even in Paradise.” 

“ No, indeed. One could remain here forever, a simple 
shepherd or gamekeeper or peat-cutter.” 

“ Oh, I dare say simple shepherds and gamekeepers and 
peat-cutters have their troubles, like the rest of us. One 
hears of discontent even in Arcadia.” 

“Yes, that’s true. We are never satisfied, always want- 
ing what we haven’t got. Man never is but always to be 
— you remember Pope ? ” 

“ I suppose there can be no question Pope is right,” said 
Ivor gravely. 

“ None,” cried Archy — “ none whatever. Men are for- 
ever scheming, forever agitated over something they want. 
Like Cleopatra, they have immortal longings — immortal 
longings,” he repeated, with a forced and painful jocularity. 

“Sometimes they have immortal longings,” admitted 
Ivor, “ but as a general thing, don’t you think the longings 
are quite mortal ? ” 

“ Perhaps so,” answered Archy j “ the natural man is 
hard to crucify.” 


72 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

He stumbled upon the hackneyed theological phrase as 
one stumbles on a pitfall in the dark, and drew back laugh- 
ing uneasily. 

“ It will presently be your privilege to help in that cruci- 
fixion,” said Ivor. 

“ Oh, you mean the pulpit,” returned Archy, flinging 
back his head, not without a suggestion of scorn. 

“I mean the pulpit,” replied Ivor; and it occurs to me 
that with luck and good management you may combine 
business and pleasure.” 

“ Business and pleasure ? ” cried Archy. 

“ Yes. You may crucify the natural man at large and 
continue happy among the moors.” 

“You speak of luck; it’s you that’s lucky,” rejoined 
Archy. 

“ Oh, I don’t know. When the spurs are on it’s not 
every cock cares to use them. No doubt it’s interesting 
to be shot at; but those who live for comfort will stay 
quietly at home.” 

Archy might take what meaning he chose out of the 
words. He was, however, too much excited to observe or 
weigh nicely. 

“ Anyway, you are going out into a great new world full 
of possibilities,” he said. “ That’s luck.” 

“Would you like to exchange places with me?” asked 
Ivor. 

He spoke very quietly, but was watching the other with 
eyes contracted to pin-holes, so that no dazzle of sunshine 
might mar the true impression. 

“ That’s as it might be,” laughed Archy. “ Give me a 
commission in the Black Watch and I’ll tell you. Mean- 
time, you may take it that for one who’ll cast an eye on 
me a thousand will applaud you.” 

“ You think that ? ” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 73 

‘‘ No, I don’t think it ; I’m sure of it.” 

“ Then our friend the natural man is interested in fight- 
ing.” 

“ More than in salvation — and especially our friend the 
natural vi^oman.” 

“ Let us hope they’ll change, and that many a chosen 
vessel \vill be credited to your account.” 

“You’re very polite,” said Archy, bowing. “Permit 
me in return to wish you good fortune. When the fun 
begins. I’ll watch the papers for your name.” 

“ I wouldn’t have you do that, for you’d probably be dis- 
appointed,” answered Ivor. “ Few of us, you know, have 
the luck to get our names into the papers. It’s only in 
devilishly hot corners we understrappers get a chance, and 
then very likely there’s no correspondent handy to note 
our valour. The plums are for the chiefs.” 

“ A bee gets honey in unexpected places,” returned 
Archy. “ Yes, I’ll watch. The pleasure of reading your 
name in the list of those who distinguish themselves will 
be some amends for the regret of your friends at losing 
you.” 

A youth in love and the company of a suspected rival is 
not to be blamed for a trifling insincerity. Fine sentiment 
is cheap, pleasant, and saves trouble. Besides, the game 
was Ivor’s as well as Archy’s. 

“ No use involving myself in a quarrel,” thought Ivor. 
“ Let him do his worst. I can trust Marjorie, though he 
were about her a thousand years.” 

“ His time’s about up,” reasoned Archy. “ And then I’ll 
have her to myself. No need to be ugly.” 

So they played soft flute-notes to one another, and were 
punctiliously polite, as befits gentlemen when each knows 
he is getting the best of it. 

Ivor laughed lightly at the idea of being missed ; and 


74 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

deftly referred to the. trout Archy had sent in that morning. 
Archy was glad the trout pleased, and suggested an even- 
ing’s fishing on a loch two miles above. 

“ When the shadows begin to drop, they take like the 
deuce,” Archy declared. “ Don’t trouble about flies. I’ve 
got the exact grey-wing we need. You’ll meet me there.” 

“ If at all possible,” answered Ivor, in seeming delight. 

Archy kept the appointment ; but kept it alone and with- 
out a throw. Returning late, in the resentful mood which 
broken promises induce, he saw suddenly at a bend of the 
path — what the chaplain had seen the evening before. The 
sight had abashed Mr. Carmichael; it maddened Archy. 

“ So that’s it, is it ? ” he said to himself, delirious with 
passion. “ That’s your fishing, you d d hypocrite.” 

In the dim light he could see, fifty yards below, Marjorie 
leaning on Ivor’s arm, and looking eagerly and fondly in 
his face; but he did not see that her eyes were bright with 


tears. 


CHAPTER XII 


She had herself no suspicion of tears, but her companion 
beholding them throbbed with the knowledge that ravishes. 
For the wet lashes and ardent longing look told more than 
maiden lips dare in modesty utter. And, indeed, she had 
but one thought, or rather no thought at all, only one whirl 
of feeling — he was going away, at once, and despite her 
northern reserve her heart could have flamed out like 
southern Juliet’s. 

Ever since he spoke one precious word she had luxuri- 
ated in happiness. At a little private shrine, artfully hid- 
den, her idol had long been worshipped. When Flora and 
Coleena talked of him, extolling as was their wont, her 
face would brighten mystically, and she would ask leading 
questions to dwell rapturously on the answers afterwards. 
Then when the thing dreamed of as a shining impossibility 
actually came to pass, a vertigo of fear and joy seized her 
— fear lest she was too happy, joy that dreams come true. 
In a little while the fear passed, leaving the joy alone. For 
weeks she had breathed celestial air, lived in a world radi- 
antly transfigured, and behold ! sudden as the swoop of 
misfortune, a chill atmosphere and a darkened sky. She 
had known he must go soon, but, living vividly in the 
passing moment, put the thought of evil to come from her. 
Now the peremptory order to report himself immediately in 
London was come, and it seemed the universe suffered a 
wrench. 

She would not have detained him an instant beyond his 
time, for was he not going to deeds worthy of him? ay, 
and like his father’s son and her ideal, he was eager to go. 

75 


76 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

Yet — yet the pain of that start for glory ! Did he feel it 
half as acutely as she ? Perhaps. At any rate it was de- 
licious to dwell on the notion that to mere inclination it 
were sweeter to stay. But neither by word nor look would 
she bribe that inclination. “ It would be cowardly,” she 
told herself, and laughed at his light references to the fun 
ahead, the big drops bending the long dark lashes. Once 
and only once a catch of the breath told of a stifled sob. 
The next instant she was smiling as in disdain of such 
feminine weakness ; but she could not dissemble the tremour 
of her arm on his, nor the quick short flutter of her bosom, 
when he named the train by which he must leave. 

“ I wish, darling, I could take you with me,” he said, as 
if in response to her unspoken words. 

“ Ah ! but, darling, I wouldn’t go,” she answered ; “ not 
for anything.” 

“ Wouldn’t go ? ” 

“No. I’ve heard father say a hundred times fighting 
men don’t want women in the way. And I wouldn’t im- 
pede you for worlds. It must be glorious to be a man, and 
able to strike out and do things.” 

“ You’d like to be a man ? ” 

She looked up at him with a quivering intensity of face. 

“ I’d like to be your comrade,” she answered, “ and do 
what you do, and be where you are.” 

And it was as she spoke these words that Archy appeared 
on the bank above. 

For a full minute he gazed down in blank astonishment ; 
then in a gust of fury descended with a rush and clatter 
which brought the lovers to a startled attention. On the 
toss of a feather he would have thrown aside basket and 
rod and challenged the interloper there and then to mortal 
combat. Indeed, in his boiling condition he felt it was the 
proper thing to do, the only thing he could do with honour 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 77 

and satisfaction. For revenge, instant and overwhelming, 
is jealousy’s first thought. As he plunged towards them 
Marjorie called out : 

“ Oh, Archy, what a fright you gave me ! ” 

“ I didn’t know I had got so frightsome all at once,” 
said Archy, landing beside them ; and then in a savage pant 
to Ivor : I suppose I might have kicked my heels till 
doomsday waiting for you.” 

“I am sorry if I disappointed you,” replied Ivor; “but 
you will remember my promise was conditional. I was to 
join you if possible.” 

“ Ah, just so,” rejoined Archy, struggling visibly with 
his emotion. “ I can see it wasn’t possible. One can’t 
very well keep two appointments at the same time.” 

“You speak like a philosopher,” Ivor laughed. Archy’s 
aggressive tone and manner nettled him, but it was best to 
be pleasant, especially since Marjorie was concerned. 

“ I am much obliged to you for the compliment,” Archy 
responded. “ Coming from one so well entitled to speak 
of philosophers it’s encouraging, and doubtless philosophy’s 
all the better of being cooled by waiting at loch sides.” 

“ I repeat I’m exceedingly sorry,” said Ivor, a touch of 
the Malcolm austerity in his voice. 

“ Oh, of course you don’t know,” cried Marjorie, taking 
a step nearer Archy. “ Mr. Malcolm’s ordered away — at 
once. The order came this evening.” 

Archy looked hard at her. 

“ Oh, that’s it, is it ? ” he thought, “ and you’re kissing 
and kittling before he goes.” The idea was not one to 
sweeten the bitter cud he chewed ; but it was one to 
justify a change of tactics. So he said with crushing 
politeness : 

“ Then I’m sorry I disturbed you ; but I couldn’t help 
it. You see, the path from the loch runs direct this way, 


78 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

and of course I had no expectation of finding you here. 
Let me make haste to relieve you of my presence.” 

He bowed, and made as to pass on. 

“There is no need at all for apologies, Mr. Buchanan,” 
Ivor struck in more hotly than he knew. “ The road is 
free to all her Majesty’s lawful subjects; and you’re as 
much entitled to use it without molestation as I hope we 
are without insult.” 

“ Insult ? ” cried Archy. “ There is no insult whatever, 
Mr. Malcolm, either given or intended. If that were the 
game, depend upon it I’d adopt other means.” 

And with another bow he swept on. Marjorie would 
have detained him, but she was frozen in a kind of terror, 
and could not find her tongue till too late. 

Ivor simply laughed. 

“ Our friend is on his highest high horse,” he said. 

“ Oh, it’s a pity, a great pity, this happened,” answered 
Marjorie, shivering ever so little. 

“A pity?” repeated Ivor. “ Why, dear, what can it 
matter ? Mr. Archibald Buchanan has quite unnecessarily 
and unreasonably heated himself. If he’s left alone, he’ll 
probably cool again in time.” 

“Yes,” admitted Marjorie, her fingers twining anxiously. 
“ But I wish it hadn’t happened. It spoils ” She hesi- 

tated, as if afraid to finish. 

“ Our last interview for a long time to come ? ” he sug- 
gested. 

“Yes,” she returned eagerly, “that’s it. I would not 
have your parting hour made unhappy, and Archy’s so 
foolish and hot-headed goodness knows what he’ll do or 
say.” 

“Well, if he’s a man you needn’t worry,” Ivor assured 
her, “ and as for me, why, he’s welcome to do or say any- 
thing he likes within a thousand miles of truth and reason. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 79 

If his anger weren’t senseless, it would be amusing. One 
would almost think he is jealous.” 

Jealous ! The word struck a cord to which Marjorie 
trembled dizzily. Something sprang to her lip. In the 
agitation of the moment it was almost out ; but she gath- 
ered her strength and crushed it back. No, she must not 
tell — just yet. Ivor must go away with thoughts sunny 
enough to last till he came back again. The rest should 
be managed all in good time — that is to say, Archy should 
be restored to sense by such a dressing-down as would 
leave him tingling with shame and remorse. All this, 
decided with the celerity of a woman’s wit, enabled her to 
laugh at the idea of jealousy. 

“ Indeed, it would just be like him,” she admitted, with 
a quick assumption of lightness. 

“Well, never mind,” said Ivor, drawing her closer to 
him. “ If he chooses to be silly, it’s his affair, not ours.” 

“ No, I don’t mind,” she answered blithely. 

“ But you do mind ” 

He had already heard the confession, but what lover is 
content with one hearing ? She drew a figure in the dust 
with her foot, her head bent, her face burning. He leaned 
towards her, murmuring passionately, and her whole being 
quivered and thrilled. All at once, and with a look that 
abode with him in trenches and by camp fires, she lifted 
her head. 

“ I do mind, sweetheart,” she said ; and it was well for 
Archy’s peace of mind he did not behold the response. 

“Now,” she said breathlessly a minute later, “you must 
let me go.” 

But he only held the faster, and her resolution to go 
melted in the desire to nestle closer. 

“ Think what may happen before we meet like this 
again,” she said in a stifled voice, 


8o 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

She meant to be heroic at the parting, and lo ! the heart 
was crying out in spite of her, and the big tears were again 
in her eyes. 

“ Do you mistrust ? ’’ he asked, looking into them. 

“ Mistrust ? ” she repeated. “ Oh, you cannot mean 
that. If trust meant answer to prayer, you should soon 
know.” 

There are moments when a man will risk heaven and all 
besides for a woman ; there are moments when a woman 
will risk heaven and all besides for a man ; and the dizzy- 
ing tide was then sweeping upon Ivor and Marjorie. 
They knew the die was cast. Henceforth there was the 
one woman for the man, the one man for the woman ; and 
each capable of any hazard, conflict, or sacrifice for sake 
of the other. 

Bending over the troubled, confiding face Ivor in turn 
wondered whether it was right to impart or keep a secret. 
Should he tell her that their raptures had been ruthlessly 
forbidden, that in asking her love he was disobeying his 
father and hers. He knew she gave it in innocence and 
ignorance ; and at all cost he must keep it. No, he could 
not tell ; he must go away feeling that she was his, that 
she was waiting to welcome him back and to crown his 
happiness — that before and above all else. So each kept 
the unpleasant tale. When they parted, the secrets were 
secrets still. 


CHAPTER XIII 


Next day they met distantly at church. The news 
flew that Ivor was ordered off, and the congregation 
gathered in a simmer of curiosity and excitement. Even 
Mungo and his brother elders, holy men on whom a well- 
established piety conferred the privilege of dozing through 
homilies meant for other people — even they had a look of 
interest and animation. The rest of the congregation, 
composing the Sunday cough and rustle of ancient silks, 
settled frankly to watch the great square pew of the 
general. There sat Ivor, the one absolutely cool and un- 
concerned figure within the four walls. 

“Just his father over again,” was whispered along the 
intent rows. “ Only better-looking,” added romantic 
damsels in their own minds. Luckily the attraction of the 
generaPs pew kept inquisitive eyes off the minister’s, where 
Marjorie shrank together, afraid to look up, and off the 
banker’s, where Archy towered, a monument of devotional 
grimness. 

For the opening exercises of worship there was but a 
truant attention ; but when Mr. Carmichael rose with set 
face and squared shoulders and solemnly gave out the text, 
the people felt that something rousing was coming. And 
in fact what came was so animating that in three minutes 
the preacher fairly divided honours with the soldier, and in 
ten had it all his own way. 

“ Thou hast heard^ oh^ my soul^ the sound of the trumpet^ 
the alarm of war*' 

Nearly thirty years before the chaplain had sent his 
Highlanders into action, the ring of the great text mingling 

8i 


82 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

in their ears with the slogan of the pipes and now the 
sermon hastily revised and brought up to date made the 
heaviest of his hearers sit erect. The trumpet had sounded, 
the alarm was abroad. Armed hosts were marshalling, and 
some who were that day full of laughter and hope would 
soon be weeping over the purple testament of war. They 
need courage, said the chaplain, who go out to battle ; 
sometimes they need it more who stay at home waiting and 
watching. Let both turn to the sacred records and their 
own glorious traditions ; let them think of the men they 
came from and be of a stout heart. When right was 
threatened, what did a great people do ? They drew the 
sword, sharpened the bowie knife, and terrible things en- 
sued. “ For every battle of the warrior is with confused 
noise and garments rolled in blood.” The fiercest of the 
prophets spoke of a time when men would beat their 
swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning 
hooks. ‘‘ We shall not live to see that day,” said the 
preacher impressively, “ nor our children, nor our chil- 
dren’s children.” The stern command of another prophet 
rings through the ages : “ Beat your ploughshares into 
swords and your pruning hooks into spears,” and men 
eagerly obey. For war is coeval with human nature. It 
came in or ever Assurbani-pal’s clay tablet described the 
primal chaos when — 

The cornfield was unharvested, the pasture was ungrown, 

and would go out, the homilist feared, when the last man 
reeled in “ the darkening universe.” Were they hence to 
sit down and wail ? Might they be eternally branded as 
cowards if they did ; and might he be dust and forgotten 
when people ceased to honour self-sacrifice and intrepidity. 
“We are sending forth our sons to battle,” he cried, his 
voice acute with emotion. “ The Lord of Sabaoth, the 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 83 

God of the Prince of the House of Israel, go with them. 
Let those that are destined to fall, fall gloriously ; let those 
that are destined for victory come back to us, so that 

Whatever record leap to light 
They never can be shamed.” 

A sough of excitement swelled through the church like 
a sudden gust of wind, drowning an emphatic amen that 
came from the great square pew. The generaPs counte- 
nance twitched visibly, and Ivor’s eyes glowed ; but Mar- 
jorie’s face, had any one looked for it, was hidden. Her 
mother whispering a question received for sole reply a 
secret hand-clasp. 


CHAPTER XIV 


As Ivor was to leave by the first train next morning, a 
company of particular friends assembled at Tigh-an-Eas 
after evening service to wish him God-speed in the cause 
of an appreciative country. They were so grouped under 
an awning by the drawing-room window that, greatly against 
his inclination, he was in the centre. On one side sat the 
general, on the other the chaplain, alert as war-horses, re- 
minded of their prime. On the general’s right Mr. Buch- 
anan, the banker, smiled, as if to say military glory is all 
very well, but he knew who held the sinews of war. 
Archy, it appeared, was prevented by an engagement else- 
where from wishing his friend good luck and a speedy re- 
turn. The adjutant-general and Mrs. Carmichael kept 
together as responsible heads ; and coiled up on the warm 
grass, like a cluster of roses, were Flora, Coleena, and Mar- 
jorie, so placed that they could watch their hero’s face. 

The meeting was for kindly wishes, but the talk was 
mostly of fire and siege. Mr. Carmichael struck the key- 
note. 

“ Foreign service, and specially selected,” he remarked, 
beaming upon Ivor. “ It’s a grand thing to be young and 
in luck.” 

“Yes, it’s come at last,” said the general. “There’s a 
deal of red tape to tie and untie before one is permitted to 
serve his queen. After clearing the war office the fighting’s 
nothing. Heavens, how it does worship circumlocution ! 
However, the gods are at length kind.” 

“ I have heard that the gods help them who help them- 
selves,” observed Mr. Carmichael. 

84 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 85 

“ I shouldn’t wonder if it’s true,” returned the general ; 
“ and to encourage them in bestowing favours I should 
counsel the young soldier carefully to note the British colour 
on the map of the world, and then study how it got there. 
He’ll find it a stimulating pastime. The sin of this great 
empire is ignorance of itself.” 

“ There’s one thing that doesn’t call for much study,” 
said Mr. Carmichael, turning again to Ivor. “ In Calcutta, 
as in London, they’re slow to learn. But given time, they 
do get hold of certain things, and when you land you’ll hear 
the names of three men, frontier officers all of them, men- 
tioned in a very special tone j and, sir, you’ll be congratu- 
lated on bearing the name of one of them.” 

“Tut, tut ! ” cried the general, his face flushing in pride. 
“Tut, tut ! he goes to carve a way for himself.” 

“ He cannot, of course, help the reputation that is ahead 
of him,” rejoined the chaplain, “ and it’s a good thing for 
the youngster to see how high the target has been held.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” returned Ivor, a glow of pleasure in 
his face, and Coleena holding Marjorie’s hand, squeezed it 
in delight. 

“ I’m an old man and a man of peace,” said Mr. Car- 
michael. 

The general interrupted with a laugh. 

“A man of peace!” he cried. “You, who had every 
old wife in church to-day itching to grip a blade ! ” 

“ I am an old man, and by profession a man of peace,” 
the chaplain went on, “ yet have I seen with joy the girding 
on of the sword, the buckling of the harness. If I were 
to pray for a miracle this minute, I think it would be that 
God would make me five-and-twenty again, and say, ‘ Thy 
strength is restored that thou mayest go to battle. Get thee 
hence.’ ” 

“ Oh, my dear,” put in his wife, “you forget me.” 


86 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ Heaven forbid ! ” replied the chaplain ; “ but the 
scream of the war-pipe and the boom of big guns, and the 
order and shout of the charge, make thrilling music. You 
are going, sir,” once more addressing Ivor, “ among scenes 
which we old stagers revisit in dreams. India during part 
of our time was delirious ; all the fiends seemed to be let 
loose together, and I tell you the old heart leaps and swells 
and rages at the memory of it all. Listen,” he went on, 
voice and face eager with excitement : “ when you visit 
Lucknow this is what you’ll do — you’ll begin with the wall 
of the Sikandarbagh, where the Highlanders, the glorious 
93d, and the Sikhs, as brave fellows as ever gave their blood 

for England But wait, you’d better begin a little 

farther back. A pencil,” he cried — “ a pencil, please.” 
And getting one, he drew rapidly a sketch of the old posi- 
tions. The general bent forward excitedly, to watch and, 
if necessary, correct. 

“ See, here’s the Dilkusha,” continued Mr. Carmichael, 
“ and here’s the Martiniere. Have a good look at that. 
Back here’s the Jelalabad Fort, as nasty a wasp’s nest as 
was ever blown to smoke.” 

“ It’s God’s truth,” commented the general — ‘‘ it’s God’s 
truth.” 

“Forward here is the old mess-house ” 

“ A little farther to the right,” put in the general — “ to 
the right yet. That’s it, that’s it ; the very spot.” 

“ There,” pursued the chaplain, “ was the old mess- 
house, where Sir Colin flew the flag, twice shot down, to 
let Outram know we were coming.” 

“ It was Roberts put it up,” said the general. “ Thfice 
the little Bobs did it — the first of many wonderful feats. I 
see the flag flying now. ‘ Thank God,’ were Outram’s 
words. Go on.” 

“ And here’s the Sikandarbagh. My God, what a battue 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 87 

was there ! Two thousand rebels in ambush to butcher us 
caught in their own trap — shot, bayoneted where they stood, 
a horrible, hissing, seething mass of serpents, driven in by 
men silent with the deep thirst of vengeance, till the dead 
and dying were piled up as high as your head.” 

“ Out of the two thousand not six escaped,” said the 
general. 

The three girls held each other fast. Mrs. Carmichael 
quivered j even the adjutant-general drew a sharp breath. 

“ It is terrible,” she said. 

“Yes, madam,” answered the chaplain, hardly conscious 
of her words. “ Down here is where Sir Colin was hit by 
a bullet that had gone clean through a gunner. You may 
imagine how we held our breath at that. But it was noth- 
ing — thigh just grazed — and next minute he was directing 
again. He stood where he could see the play of the breech- 
ing guns, and the instant the hole in the wall was big enough 
to let men through, he gave the order to assault.” 

“It must have been grand, sir,” cried Ivor, his soldier’s 
heart leaping within him. 

“ Oh, grander than you can ever imagine. The infantry, 
which had been lying down, sprang up with a shout ; and 
the Sutherland men, twins in glory with the Black Watch, 
raced the — what were the other regiments ? ” 

“The 53d and 4th Punjab,” answered the general 
quickly. 

“ The 53d and the Punjabees. That was a race never 
to be forgotten. Well, a Sutherland man was first for the 
prize — which was death. At his heels was a Punjabee, and 
he, too, went down. But the avenging rush followed close, 
and it happened as I have told you. When the work was 
over and I went in, the first thing my eye fell on just beside 
the breach was a bonnie Highland laddie, a drummer of the 
93d, lying stiff on his back. He must have been one of 


88 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

the first through that hole of death, and he paid the price 
of being a hero.’’ 

Tears sprang to the girls’ eyes. 

“ Poor little fellow ! ” cried Coleena. “ What a 
shame ! ” 

“ War can be very cruel, my dear,” responded Mr. Car- 
michael softly. ‘‘ I kneeled down beside him and smoothed 
back his fair hair, thinking of his mother in the Highland 
glen far away. When all was over and I took a run 
home, I went to see her, and told her the whole story — 
how nobly he died, how bonnie he was even in death, and 
how, as we buried him, the enemy’s guns paid him funeral 
honours, as became the brave.” 

“ Did she cry much ? ” asked Coleena fearfully. 

“ Not a drop,” answered Mr. Carmichael. “ Her crying 
was all over by that time. She just looked at me till she 
heard all ; then she said quietly : ‘ When I used to look 

into his wee laughing face, sir, I did not think that was to 
be the end. I had three sons, and I gave two of them to 
my country, and he was the youngest and the bonniest of 
them all.’ ” 

“ And what did you say .? ” asked Coleena, her eyes 
swimming. 

‘‘ Nothing,” replied Mr. Carmichael. “ There was 
nothing I could say. I just kissed her poor old hand in 
reverence.” 

“ And I’ll kiss you for that,” cried Coleena, leaping 
up. “ There,” and almost before they realised what she 
was about she had kissed him and was back beside 
Marjorie. 

“ Thank you, dear,” said Mr. Carmichael, looking mist- 
ily at the bright young face. 

“ She was a brave woman,” said Coleena, whisking away 
a tear, “ and I like the brave. I’d like to have known her.” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 89 

“ She’s with her boy now,” said Mr. Carmichael. “ He 
came all the way from the Sikandarbagh to meet her. God 
made her the mother of heroes, and she was satisfied.” 

There was a pause, as if none cared to speak ; then the 
chaplain, pulling himself together, proceeded : 

“ Well, you will have an extra good look at the Sikan- 
darbagh. There’s the breach, you see. And here — mark 
the place particularly — here is where Lennox’s sappers 
pierced the wall to let Havelock and Outram through ; and 
down by here on the slope Sir Colin met them. It’ll be a 
’long time. I’m thinking, or three such men meet again. 
As for what took place in the Residency, that’s a story for 
your father to tell.” 

“ It’s not a nice story,” remarked the general, smiling 
upon Marjorie. “ Besides, I can see that nerves are 
touched enough already. My son will hear all about the 
Residency when he gets there, and there’s a tale of Cawn- 
pore, too, which may keep him awake at night. And by 
the way,” he added, turning quickly to Ivor, “ when you’re 
at Cawnpore, make them tell you about your regiment’s 
march from Cheemee — eighty miles in fifty-six hours in a 
tropical climate. It couldn’t do it to-day.” 

“ Given a chance, I believe the Black Watch would still 
be found worthy of its old reputation,” said Ivor. “ It did 
well in Egypt.” 

“ Egypt ! ” retorted the general contemptuously. 
“ Fuzzy-wuzzy with sticks and spears — and by George ! 
they broke a British square at that — with sticks and spears. 
In India we trained and armed the beggars'^we had to fight. 
But we won’t get into a discussion, if you please. In the 
olden time the 42d did all even Highlanders can 
do. One little incident at Bareilly I remember particu- 
larly to their credit. A body of Ghazis break;ing loose 
came down upon us like an avalanche. I can see the beg- 


90 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

gars yet with their low heads and their cries of “ deen 
deen.” I was with the Punjabees. On came the Ghazis, 
sweeping us back — oh, we had to give way, and then they 
fell pell-mell on the Highlanders. Sir Colin was watching. 
‘Trust to the bayonet, my lads,’ he cried. The 42d 
did, and in three minutes not a Ghazi was fit to 
kick — wiped out completely. It was a fine piece of work, 
and there were one or two other things worth remembering, 
especially the doings about the Kashmir gate at Delhi. If 
you want the blood to race a bit, make them tell you about 
Stewart’s ride from Agra. I think I’d rather have done 
that than any other single feat in the Mutiny.” 

“ He was a Highlander, too,” remarked Mr. Car- 
michael. 

“ Out and out,” responded the general ; and after a 
pause he added reflectively : “ God, what men we had 

then ! ” 

From the past they turned for a little to the future, and 
presently parted. Ivor saw some of them go with strange 
longings to follow ; but that night he was his father’s 
prisoner. 

At the station next morning half the population of 
Aberfourie assembled to see him off, the men clamouring 
goodwill, the women wiping eyes and invoking blessings. 
When the great moment arrived the general held out 
his hand. 

“ Well, do your best to get killed, and you may get on,” 
he said. 

“ I’ll try, sir,” answered Ivor cheerfully. 

“ Yes, he’ll try,” murmured Mr. Carmichael. “ He 
wouldn’t be a Malcolm if he didn’t.” 

For a minute they stood waving hats and handkerchiefs, 
all eyes fixed on the diminishing head thrust out of a car- 
riage window, then the train swept round a curve, leaving 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 91 

only a momentary noise of wheels and a dissolving white 
film in the air. 

The general turned and gave his arm to Marjorie. 

Come, dear,” he said tenderly, “ we may go now.” 


I 



Book II 


CHAPTER I 

In the moment that the general gave his arm to Marjorie 
Ivbr dropped back into a corner of the smoker and lit a 
cigar, a last picture imprinting itself indelibly on his mind. 
In the intervals of marching and fighting he should no 
doubt think many and many a time of those clustered about 
him at the parting. He should see them all on the little 
rural platform, guarded by the quiet hills. He should re- 
member the smile and the trembling lids which told of 
repressed affection. But his heart whispered that of all 
the endeared group one figure would engross the memory. 
It was clothed in soft summer white, carried a sprig of 
heather (gathered he knew how) at its bosom, and gazed at 
him with dewy haunting eyes which said as plainly as 
speech, “ You are going and I am glad^ but oh, come back 
again soon.” 

“ She took it bravely,” he said to himself, pulling till 
he seemed to disappear in a blue haze. He was still in a 
profound muse when the cockcrow of the Highland engine 
announced they were running into Perth. There a brother 
officer of the Black Watch greeted him as he stepped out 
with the greeting of a comrade, which is several degrees 
warmer than the greeting of a brother. 

“ In luck, as usual,” said the other. 

“ Rather lucky, I admit,” returned Ivor. 

“Yes. The rest of us must kick our heels patiently 
93 


94 the eternal QUEST 

till something big enough turns up to take the regiment 
out again, and heaven knows when that’ll be.” 

“The chance will come all in good time,” said Ivor, in 
the cheery tone of the fortunate. 

“ Hope so,” responded the other. “ Nothing doing since 
we were in Egypt, and that wasn’t exactly the sort of 
picnic one would have chosen.” 

In fifteen minutes the pair had settled half a dozen 
plans of campaign in as many quarters of the world, with 
swift promotion due to personal dash and happy casualties 
among the seniors. Then the whistle blew and Ivor was 
off again. 

“ Good-bye,” said his friend, with a farewell grip. 
“ Good luck, though you’re already the luckiest man in the 
battalion.” 

“Thanks, old fellow,” Ivor called back. “When the 
Black Watch is ordered out, be sure I’ll head for it from 
somewhere — if I’m alive and fit for service.” 

At Stirling, where the train stopped a moment, yet an- 
other comrade was waiting with eager congratulations, and 
at Edinburgh the sentiment was repeated with varied 
emphasis. For in every garrison town north of the Tweed 
he had friends, and not a man of them but wished to be in 
his shoes. 

From under the castled rock he steamed with a quickened 
sense of privilege. At last he was fairly off, speeding 
south and east for the land of military romance, for the 
real thing — yes, the real blood-red thing — which the British 
Empire always keeps on hand for its adventurous sons. 
And being permitted to seek death, he knew thousands 
were envying him, because in every British outpost from 
Singapore to Vancouver men thirsted for his opportunity, 
and in every British barrack kicked because the nation was 
grown fat and indifferent, 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 95 

He did not immediately realise how fat and how indif- 
ferent, because being young he fancied that those about him 
shared his own martial ardour. It was with something of 
the shock of impiety he found the nation going about its 
daily affairs of business and pleasure as if no foe armed 
with deadly weapons prowled at its back door and no one 
got killed in scaring them off. The service clubs in Lon- 
don fluttered in interest, because men gathered there who 
understood what it is to keep the flag flying in face of 
hatred, treason, and sudden attacks. But the people knew 
little, and cared nothing. Newspaper readers had a hazy 
idea that something was happening, or had happened, or 
was expected to happen, in some outlandish place they 
really could not remember the name of. They had their 
own concerns to look after, and suppose some person or 
persons unknown, in some unknown way, would see to it 
that the skirts of the empire were kept clean and in order. 

“ Don’t be disappointed,” said a veteran and friend of 
his father to Ivor, “ but the simple truth is, you may go 
out and fight and get maimed or killed and the thing will 
receive three obscure lines which men will read with a 
yawn, and women ignore entirely. When I was a good 
deal younger and greener than I am to-day, I had the 
notion my country was watching me, ready to applaud 
when I did anything to be proud of. That mistake was 
long ago corrected. Your country, my dear Mr. Malcolm, 
will read columns about a social scandal or a prize fight 
carefully word by word, and glance carelessly at half a 
dozen lines telling of your heroism at a frontier fort.” 

“ People were not so apathetic in the old days of the 
Crimea and the Mutiny,” Ivor remarked. 

“True,” rejoined the other. “But then you see the 
Crimea and the Mutiny provided sensations on a proper 
scale. Provide such sensations again — in particular, let 


96 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

some of our society darlings be hurt — and you’d see the 
nation roused. But a border scuffle isn’t sufficient. If 
you’re lucky, it’ll help you in the service and give you a 
chance when a bigger thing comes, that’s all.” 

From a veteran scarred by experience the speech might 
have been disappointing ; but Ivor had the heart and hope 
of four-and-twenty. 


CHAPTER II 


He reached India to find official and military circles 
buzzing in grateful excitement. 

“Yes,” said the officer to whom he reported himself, 
“the fun’s going to begin. You’re ready ? ” 

“ Quite ready, sir,” answered Ivor ; and sent a message 
home that he was starting at once for the front, and hoped 
very shortly to be under fire. 

So Aberfourie waited, artfully hiding its feelings in specu- 
lation. For the instruction of the lay mind the general 
and the chaplain got out maps which presently bristled with 
pins in representation of frontier forts and villages. Every 
foot of the ground was strategically surveyed ; and it was 
made out the British had some ugly work before them. 

“ Our usual luck,” said the general, “ to take up the 
fight on ground of the enemy’s choosing.” 

The geography of the frontier studied and described to 
the minutest detail, the strategists retraced the courses of 
old campaigns, pricking out the scenes of their own battles 
in an emotion which even the military habit could not 
wholly repress ; and thus, passing to and fro between the 
old and the new, and trying hard to look as if nothing of 
consequence were impending, they entertained themselves 
until on a sudden one day Reuter flashed news of an 
engagement. The British had been caught in a nasty 
position, as the British so often are, and had fought and 
extricated themselves after the manner of their race. 
There had been a charge up steep slopes under a galling 
fire, some smart work with the bayonet, and considerable 
casualties. That was all Reuter told, Four-and-twcnty 

97 


98 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

hours must pass before the arrival of the official dispatch 
giving particulars, and even the general owned that on 
tenter-hooks four-and-twenty hours seemed an age. The 
dispatch came, with a list of names, which some read with 
bated breath, blanched face, and a gasp of thankfulness. 
Ivor was not mentioned. 

“ Couldn’t expect it just at the start,” the general said 
smiling. “That would be too much luck.” 

The major-general commanding was glad to report that 
he was perfectly satisfied with the behaviour of his troops. 
A difficult position had been taken and he was pressing his 
advantage. A newspaper correspondent added incidentally 
that the enemy was audacious, unexpectedly well armed, 
and vastly superior in numbers. 

“ Of course, of course,” remarked the general. “ That’s 
the English all over, sending ten men to fight fifty when 
the fifty are snug and ready.” 

A second battle was promised immediately, and two days 
later a brief message announced it took place as arranged. 
Again the enemy was routed, and more men were killed 
and wounded ; but Malcolm was not among the names. 

“ Thank God ! ” said one, whose interest was more poign- 
ant than that of father or sister — “ thank God ! ” 

She had listened to tales of battle with the delight of 
Desdemona, but what had fascinated her was remote — 
remote and romantic as the doings of Achilles or Hector. 
Now war had come close and was terrible. Yet she must 
needs keep her thoughts to herself and hold her feelings in 
leash. 

The result of the second engagement entailed some 
forced marching. The enemy had taken himself off with 
the mysterious celerity of the Asiatic in the dark, and we 
were following hot foot. 

The general looked grave when he read of the pursuit, 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 99 

and the chaplain watching his face knew what was in his 
mind. 

“ I hope they won’t rush headlong,” said the veteran. 
“When the Indian hillmen vanish like mist, it’s time to be 
careful. If we’re caught in those defiles, God help us.” 

The pursuit was headlong; the enemy, slinking like 
foxes among the rocks, took the pursuers’ measure, and the 
inevitable happened. One morning the newspaper placards 
announced in their wildest capitals a “ Disaster to a British 
Force,” and startled England learned she had a war on 
hand. 

It chanced that forenoon that about the time the London 
mail is due in Aberfourie, Mr. Carmichael was taking the 
air in his garden. He had examined and admired the ripen- 
ing fruit at the back, strolled to the front among the flow- 
ers, and thus soothed and content in mind, leaned over the 
gate. He was still in that posture of dreamy rest when the 
newsboy appeared with his daily paper. 

“ Well, Johnny, what’s the news to-day ? ” he asked, 
smiling upon the lad. 

“ Another fight, sir,” answered Johnny gleefully. 

“ A fight ? ” repeated Mr. Carmichael, with a start. 

“Yes, sir, and a big one too, it says,” and Johnny made 
off to spread the excitement. 

Mr. Carmichael opened his paper with a shaky hand and 
a jumping heart. Twice he put it down, struggling to 
compose himself. Then he read thirty fateful lines — put 
under a sensational heading, for the sub-editors of Great 
Britain had risen to the fact that something was happening 
in which men were killing each other. He read first at a 
gallop, holding his breath ; then slowly, line by line, forcing 
himself to be calm. The hand holding the paper fell by 
his side, and he looked upward. Through the trees he 
could see the clustered chimney-tops of Tigh-an-Eas, some 
LofC. 


100 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

of them smoking peacefully, and one northern gable drows- 
ing in the sun. What would they say up there ? 

With that question in his mind he turned, intending 
to go into the house, and in the same instant Marjorie 
appeared at the door. She was smiling, for she had some- 
thing pretty to say to him, but at sight of his face the 
smile vanished, and she ran forward asking what was 
wrong. He looked at her, as if considering whether he 
ought to tell. 

“ There’s been another engagement,” he answered 
slowly, keeping his eye fixed on hers. 

“ A severe one ? ” she asked, turning very white. 

“ Yes, rather severe.” 

“ Let me see,” she cried, and took the paper before he 
could prevent her. 

“ Oh, a disaster,” she gasped — “ a disaster.” 

Her eyes flew on, but the dancing print was blurred. 

“ Give me the paper, and I’ll read it,” her father said 
softly. 

“ Oh, you have read,” she returned, unconsciously grip- 
ping his arm ; “ tell me, Ivor’s name isn’t there, is it ? ” 

“ Yes, dear, it’s there.” 

“ Not killed ? ” she panted, her fingers closing like a vice 
— “ not killed ? ” 

A swooning blackness fell on her, a mighty drumming 
was in her ears ; but she plucked herself together as from 
the brink of a precipice. 

“ Not killed ? ” she repeated. 

“ No, fortunately not killed,” replied her father ; “ only 
wounded.” 

“ Badly .? ” 

She drew a long breath, and her eyes gleamed moistily. 
She could bear the truth now ; the shock was past. 

“ It says severely.” 


lOI 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

Her bosom rose in a spasm of pain, fluttered a moment, 
and fell in a kind of throbbing tremour. Then her father 
saw the tears coming, and knew he could speak freely. 

“ I don’t think we need be alarmed,” he said, putting 
into his tone a confidence he did not feel. “ An army sur- 
geon has three official adjectives for use in the field — dan- 
gerous, severe, and slight. When the case is hopeless he 
applies number one ; numbers two and three, in his judg- 
ment, mean recovery, though of course the severe is more 
tedious than the slight. Ivor will be disappointed in being 
kept so long in hospital, that’s all.” 

Her face brightened like an April day, shining as in 
gratitude for that assurance. 

“Yes,” she said eagerly, crushing down her fears to take 
her lover’s point of view, “ I’m sure he’ll be deeply dis- 
appointed. But it’s better to be in hospital than in the 
grave.” 

She was so far mistress of herself now that she smiled 
faintly} and as composure returned there fell on her a 
trembling dread that she had betrayed herself by too much 
concern. That idea brought the blood to her face with a 
burning rush. In the agony of the first moment what had 
she said, what had she done ? Could her father have 
guessed her secret ? She perused his face for a sign of 
intelligence, and was heartened to find it blank. Then 
came a swift rebound of spirit. When you are hit, as you 
feel, mortally, and discover you have merely been stunned, 
the gladness is deeper than if you had escaped untouched. 

That is Nature’s mode of compensation. So Marjorie, 
finding the sun still in the heavens, tingled in strange ex- 
altation. She must now be on guard against erring on the 
other side. 

“ Shall I take the paper to mother ? ” she asked, feeling 
the wisdom of retreat. “ She’ll be interested too.” 


102 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ Do/* replied her father — “ do, and say that I have 
gone to Tigh-an-Eas.** 

“ Oh, yes, we mustn’t forget Tigh-an-Eas,” she cried, 
feeling for the first time that others were concerned. 
“ Poor things, they’ll be fearfully anxious.” 

“ Naturally,” rejoined her father, turning to go. “ But 
they’re accustomed to exciting news,” he added over his 
shoulder. 

Yet he felt that custom does not sweeten bad news, and 
for the first time he approached Tigh-an-Eas with a tremour 
of uncertainty. 

“A man doesn’t mind being hit himself,” he thought, 
a vision of the stricken general vivid before him ; “ but it’s 
quite a different thing when a son is struck — quite a dif- 
ferent thing.” 

From the lawn gate he spied the general on a deck-chair 
under a laburnum, erect and smoking furiously. The 
morning paper lay at his feet, and standing by his side 
were Flora and Coleena, palpably in tears. The adjutant- 
general had just left them. Mr. Carmichael hesitated, 
a thing he had not done six times in his whole life, and 
might actually have fled had there been a fair chance of 
escape. But the general, catching sight of him, was up 
and waving a welcome j so putting on a sort of battle front, 
he advanced. 

‘‘ Good-morning,” the general called almost cheerily. 
“ Coleena dear, bring Mr. Carmichael a chair, and then 
Flora and yourself may go to your aunt. A lovely day 
again. Wonderful weather — upon my word quite wonder- 
ful. There, sit down and light your pipe.” 

The girls went off and the pipes began like a pair of 
competitive chimneys. 

“Well, it’s come,” said the general out of the smoke. 

“Sorry to hear it,” responded Mr. Carmichael. He 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 103 

gave two or three tremendous pulls. ‘‘ Evidently an am- 
bush,” he added. 

The general fanned away the thickening smoke angrily. 

“ What did I tell you ? ” he cried. “ There’s no God- 
forsaken blundering that your peace-trained men aren’t 
capable of. They regard war as an agreeable combination 
of pig-sticking and polo — with this result. I suppose there 
was hardly a man among them who understood that the 
other side had eyes and ears and intelligence and a turn 
for taking advantage of stupidity and ignorance; and of 
course this is what happens. Upon my soul, they deserve 
what they’ve got.” 

“ It may not be so bad as reported,” suggested Mr. Car- 
michael, puffing laboriously between each word ; “ the ac- 
count is not official; but it’s a pity ” 

“ A pity ! ” retorted the general. “ No, it’s not a pity, 
it’s the sheer stern logic of fact, and you know it, Colin. 
I’m not blaming — ” naming the general in command. 
“ He ought to know his business, seeing Stewart and 
Roberts taught him ; but he can’t win battles with mule- 
trains. Oh, an unreckonable number of fools and asses 
wear the queen’s uniform, my friend.” 

With that burst both fell silent, smoking yet more furi- 
ously. Five minutes they must have gazed steadily before 
them ; then all at once Mr. Carmichael started. 

“A telegraph messenger,” he said excitedly. 

The general turned his eyes in the direction of the gate. 

“ This way, boy,” he called, seeing the messenger mak- 
ing for the house. “ Dead, likely,” he added quietly, re- 
suming his pipe. Not a muscle of his face moved. He 
would take intelligence of death calmly, as became one 
whose daily business it had been to see men die. He held 
out a steady hand for the message, ripped the envelope 
without haste or agitation, spread out the flimsy, and read 


104 the eternal quest 

deliberately. Then he leaped to his feet, his face wrought 
to sudden ecstasy. 

“ From our friend in the war office,” he cried almost 
choking with excitement. “ Listen.” And he read : 

“ Congratulations. Lieutenant Malcolm named dis- 
patches conspicuous bravery in action. Hope wound not 
serious.” 

The chaplain seized his friend’s hand. 

Well done ! ” he said — “ well done ! I knew he would 
do it the moment he got a chance. Let us telegraph to 
him — ril do it — at once.” 

“Thanks,” returned the general hardly able to articu- 
late. “ The boy’s started not so badly — not so badly at 
all.” 


CHAPTER III 


There is but one thing which flies faster than bad news, 
and that is good news, when hearts are waiting expectantly. 
Before the general was over his first gulp of gladness the 
household was dancing about him in jubilation. Flora and 
Coleena hugged him deliriously in lieu of Ivor, and the 
adjutant-generaPs face streamed in a pure efflux of joy. 

“ I’m very glad, James,” she said, striving in vain to be 
calm. Thank God he’s a Malcolm.” 

“Thank you, Jane, thank you,” returned the general 
huskily. “ But he’s his mother’s son as well as his father’s.” 

“ I’m proud of him anyway,” declared Jane. 

“ So are we all,” chimed in Coleena, flinging back a mass 
of rebellious hair. “ Papa, dear, give me the telegram.” 

She took it and ran, almost charging into Peter, the 
gardener, who had spied the commotion and was scouting 
on the edge of the shrubbery. 

“ God bless my soul. Miss Coleena, what will be the 
matter.?” he asked, thrown out of his self-possession. 

“ This, Peter,” she replied, holding out the telegram : 
“ he’s wounded.” 

“ Wounded repeated Peter, with a catch of alarm — 
“ wounded ? My prayers did not fend off the evil, then.” 

“Wounded — and mentioned in dispatches,” Coleena 
added, pantingly. “ Mentioned in dispatches, Peter. Con- 
spicuous bravery in action — think of that. Here, read for 
yourself.” 

“ I haven’t my specs about me,” returned Peter dolefully. 

“ Never mind. I’ll read it to you.” 

Whereupon she read the message. 

105 


io6 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ Ow,” cried Peter as if he had been struck a mortal 
blow — “ow. Lord Almighty, it’s worth being alive this 
day. Conspikus bravery in action, which is to say a Mal- 
colm in the saddle again. I declare my heart’s just loupin’ 
with joy. Gosh ! I’d like to know how the other side felt. 
Conspikus bravery ! This must be told. Miss Coleena — 
this must be told at once.” 

And with that he made off to infect his fellow-servants. 
Presently he was back leading a motley shame-faced com- 
pany whose “respectable compliments” he, the chosen 
orator, took leave to present to the general, to the adjutant- 
general, to Flora, to Coleena, and finally to themselves on 
being associated with Tigh-an-Eas that day. They were 
all “ daft and dancin’ happy,” just as they ought to be on 
“ this grand occasion,” and would the company excuse him 
for so lamely expressing the sentiment that made their 
blood go like a mill race ? The general, in a voice ridicu- 
lously unsteady for a man of war, acknowledged their good 
will. The boy had been under fire and came out without 
disgracing them. There was hope he might yet be useful 
to his country. 

“ He’s been that already, sir,” rejoined Peter, and called 
for three cheers for the absent hero. These given, a like hon- 
our was bestowed separately and individually on the hero’s 
father and sisters and aunt as partakers of his glory. Then 
the general intimated where something was to be found in 
which to drink him health and further luck ; and Peter, 
grinning in satisfaction, promptly led his brigade to the 
delectable task. The adjutant-general thought it wise to 
follow and superintend. 

“ Never saw him so nearly overcome,” Peter remarked 
to the housekeeper. “ It’s a queer thing this human 
natir, Mrs. McKay. Here’s the general wouldn’t give 
that,” cracking his thumb, “ for twenty wounds ; he’s had 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 107 

them by the dozen in his day ; but when the laddie’s hit 
he’s just like old Davie with Absalom. It’s a queer 
thing, human natir. Am not sure I ever heard it right 
explained.” 

“ It’s just in the blood,” returned Mrs. McKay. “That’s 
all anybody can say.” 

“ Ye’ll know, being a mother yerself,” said Peter. “ Ay, 
faith, a mother in Israel, as one might say. Four sons, 
forby — how many daughters will it be exactly, Mrs. Mc- 
Kay ? My memory’s not what it was.” 

“ Oh, just six,” answered the lady. 

“To be sure, to be sure,” said Peter. “The half- 
dozen ; bonnie lassies, too, every one of them if a man 
was only young again. Four boys and six girls — that 
will make ” 

“Ten,” said the lady. 

“ Precisely that,” assented Peter. “ And ye might just 
have made out the dozen when ye were at it ; but the 
Lord keeps that in His own hand, Mrs. McKay, and 
it’s not for us to grumble. And when all’s said 
ye’ve done well. Ten all told, and one wearin’ the red 
coat too.” 

“ In the Freiceadan Dubh with Mr. Ivor,” said the 
lady. 

“ Well, he’s not fighting yet,” remarked Peter ; “ and 
the business on hand is to drink the health o’ him that is. 
Whiskey for me, thenkee, mem. I think it’s more friendly 
like, and if it’s good, a drop extra never hurts.” 

While Peter and his friends drank yet more glory to 
Ivor, Flora and Coleena slipped unperceived into the house, 
hastily put on hats and jackets, and started for the manse — 
to share their joy with Marjorie. On the way, as fate 
would have it, they met Archy making with a book for the 
sunny heights above. He had read the news in the morn- 


io8 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

ing paper and hastened to express his sympathy. The 
whole town, he said, was so excited ; it talked of nothing 
but Ivor’s wound. 

“ But they’ll have more to talk about than his wound,” 
cried Coleena, and thrust the telegram into his hand. 

“ Isn’t that grand ? ” she demanded, looking him squarely 
in the eyes. “ If I were a: man, that’s what I’d like said 
about me.” 

An odd expression like the grin of sudden pain came 
into Archy’s face, but he chivalrously agreed, and offered 
his congratulations. His words were for both sisters, but 
somehow his look was for Coleena alone. He was con- 
scious of something magnetic in those blue unflinching 
eyes, something also more than a little embarrassing. One 
might easily be bewitched by them, ay, even the strong- 
minded Archibald Buchanan. 

“We’re going to tell Marjorie,” Coleena explained. 
“ Will you come with us ? ” 

Flora observing intently was certain he winced ; Coleena 
fancied he grew pale and seemed confused. He thanked 
her, saying he would be delighted, then instantly rued, and 
said they must excuse him, since he was making up lost 
ground in his studies. It was his misfortune, he declared 
with uneasy gallantry, and turned to go. 

“ Look in at Tigh-an-Eas,” Coleena called after him. 
“ Papa’s alone and will be glad to see you.” 

“ Thank you, but must stick to this,” he answered, hold- 
ing up the book. “ Very likely,” he growled as he strode 
upward — “ very likely. It would be delectable to swell 
their heads.” 

Then his thoughts flew back to the manse, and a vision 
of a radiantly elated girl rose before him, making his brows 
knit. He walked swiftly, hardly knowing whither he 
went, till he found himself before the identical rock upon 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 109 

which he had sat with Ivor on the last day they talked 
together. 

“ Very good,” he said grimly — “ very good,” and 
sprang up. 

Meanwhile Flora and Coleena hurried to Marjorie, brim- 
ful of eagerness. 

“ Poor thing,” said Coleena. “ She likely fancies he’s 
dead. Come, Flo, let’s go faster.” 

They found her alone in the garden, the fateful news- 
paper held listlessly in her hand. She had read and re-read 
the paragraph, crying softly to herself, till her blurred eyes 
ran the words into each other. A little fit of sobbing fol- 
lowed, and then a sort of dazed calm. It was impossible 
to believe that that was his name with “ severely wounded ” 
after it, staring at her in cold print. The world about her 
drowsed in a peace so absolute — the summer azure flecked 
with white film of cloud, the woods sleepy with foliage, the 
hills shimmering in the sun — that the dire news became in- 
credible. In the midst of a restful, sunny paradise the 
imagination finds the hurricane of war incongruously, 
unreal. 

She read again and reawoke with a start. The whole 
scene of horror flashed upon her, and amid the strewn 
wreckage one figure, pitiably mangled, lay conspicuous. 
She closed her eyes shuddering, and the paper dropped from 
her hand. Bending to pick it up again, she turned half 
round, and caught sight of Flora and Coleena. With the 
privilege of old friends they entered unannounced and were 
slipping round the end of the house to take her by surprise. 
Her heart stopped when she saw them. They were com- 
ing to tell her he was dead, lying as she had seen him in the 
vision of gore. He should never come to her again — 
never, never. For one instant the universe reeled, as it 
reels at the stroke of fate for all. Something was in her 


no THE ETERNAL QUEST 

throat which she could not swallow, and why were they 
running away from her ? She would have called out ; but 
her tongue was powerless. 

Rallying her eddying senses she took a step to meet them. 
She was even conscious of smiling. Then they seemed to 
rush at her, and the next moment she was smothered in 
embraces. 

“You have been crying, dear,” said Coleena, kissing the 
white face. 

“ Oh, just a little,” she answered, with a suppressed 
gurgle. “ I couldn’t help it. It’s foolish, but it hurt me 
to think of him lying there, and he so brave.” 

Coleena caught at the word. 

“ Brave ” she repeated, pulling the telegram from her 
pocket. “ Oh, you don’t know how brave. Read that.” 

Marjorie took the piece of paper, but to her dim eyes 
it was blank. 

“You read it, dear,” she said, handing it back. 

“ Listen, then,” said Coleena breathlessly. “ There, 
what do you think of that ? ” 

Marjorie could not tell ; she could only gaze through 
the welling tears. 

“ Isn’t it what we expected ? ” said Flora, putting an arm 
tenderly about her. 

“Just — ^just,” responded Marjorie quickly. “Read it 
again, Coleena.” 

And Coleena, nothing loth, read it again. 

“ Oh ! I’m so glad,” Marjorie managed to get out. 
“ I’m so glad.” 

It was what any casual person hearing the good news 
would have said ; yet she could say no more, for hers was 
the joy that throttles. By degrees self-possession returned. 
Her first feeling was one of unspeakable relief; he was 
alive, and that seemed enough. Then came pride, sweep- 


THE ETERNAL QUEST iii 

ing like a fiery tide, and when pride in the man she loves 
fills the heart of woman, then, if never again, she knows 
bliss, pure and unadulterated. 

“ It’s splendid,’’ she cried joyously, her voice ringing out 
clear and strong — “ splendid ! But I knew what he would 
do.” 


CHAPTER IV 


Archy threw himself on the flat mottled top of the rock 
with a vague notion of resting. But a man on fire is in no 
condition for repose, and he sprang to his feet again with 
such haste and energy that he nearly went over the side. 
In recovering balance his foot struck the book, and the 
touch made his ire blaze. Glancing down he caught the 
word “ Prophecy ” staring at him as in admonition. 

“ D you,’* he cried fiercely, and kicked the peccant 

volume into an oozy ditch a dozen yards away. “ Ay, 
flap in the dirt,” he added as it spread its leaves to the 
mire. ‘‘ It’s the place for apologetic theology.” 

The gratification of kicking something brought a mo- 
mentary relief, and once more he sat down, his head 
clutched tragically in his hands. He wanted to think ; if 
need be, to plan and execute vengeance. Love, says the 
well-versed Spaniard, abounds in honey and poison. Some- 
body else had the honey, leaving Archy the poison, and his 
portion worked like madness in the brain. A man of the 
world would have set him right in ten minutes with a dose 
of practical philosophy ; but no such physician being at his 
elbow, he must needs drink the infernal cup to the dregs. 
As a divinity student he had read and heard much of 
perdition. Schoolmen knew nothing about it. Perdition 
is to be crossed in love. After that experience, Archy felt, 
the hell of theologians is a nursery and playroom for chil- 
dren. 

He recalled what had been written of the divine passion, 
and what, in the innocence of a fool, he had once believed. 
Some blatant beast, usurping the name of philosopher, had 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 113 

said “Love and you shall be loved.” If he had said 
“ Love and you shall be taken in, hoodwinked, scorched, 
tortured, deceitfully used and ignominiously thrown over,” 
Archy would have assented instantly. Men ought not to 
be permitted to use delusive phrases, gloze, perjure, and 
speak lies generally under cloak of truth and sanctity. He 
would have all such perverters burned at the stake, ay, 
though a hundred idols from Plato to Tennyson were in- 
cluded. Shakespeare, who knew all things, was eternally 
right. Love was an evil angel, a devil, a choking gall. 
But worse than love was woman, and worse than woman 
the man who fell in battle and hadn’t the decency to die. 

Archy would have turned in horror from the bare notion 
of homicide ; but there was no denying that the fellow who 
did the shooting did it badly. A true aim and the doors of 
paradise had flown open. By a false aim they were 
slammed in one’s face — oh yes, slammed. For if Ivor had 
been formidable going about quietly with a whole skin, he 
was irresistible lying on the Indian frontier with a bullet in 
him. Such was the cursed perversity of woman. 

And then came a surge of vexed pride. Why should 
his heart droop ? As good fish remained in the sea as ever 
came out of it. Men had been jilted and lived to be 
merry for many a year after. Troops of girls, handsome, 
kind and well-dowered, were ready to smile upon Mr. 
Archibald Buchanan. Pagh ! the world was full of Helens, 
and one would suffice. There was rich wine in plenty for 
all who had the courage to seize it and drink. 

That mood passed swiftly. Lifting his head he saw the 
mud-stained leaves of the book of prophecy fluttering in the 
breeze. The draggled unfortunate thing, rustling deso- 
lately in the shifty hill-wind, pointed a too apt moral. 

“ I’m in the mud, too,” he said to himself j “ cast away, 
like that wretched boojc,'' 


1 14 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

The wretched book, he reflected, dealt with the great 
theme of prophecy. Well, what could it foretell ? He 
would have bartered all hope of distinction in the halls of 
learning for one glimpse of the future, revealing the rela- 
tions of a certain trio, say five years ahead. Oh, for a 
moment of that magic gift of futurity with which men and 
women of his race were sometimes endowed. And at that 
random thought his blood suddenly chilled and his hair 
bristled. 

‘‘ What can have put that into my head ” he asked 
himself with an awesome thrill. “ Old witch-fancies in 
broad daylight. Tut!” He bent forward brooding, only 
to thrill yet more eerily. He was a student, on occasion a 
cynic, and acquainted with men and cities. Among his 
companions he had laughed at superstition. Yet was there 
not a lore beyond that of books, a lore pointing the hidden 
ways of life and death ? He recalled a hundred tales of 
signs and portents, omens, auguries, and divinations. He 
had listened to them in childhood, afraid to breathe or wink. 
Afterwards in the profanity of the world he ridiculed them. 
The world and he were wrong. Miracles ! The power 
of miracle is in faith, and the supernatural stoops to the 
natural. There is the proof of Holy Writ for it. Shivering 
a little, Archy buttoned his coat for courage and warmth. 

“ ril do it,” he told himself — “ I’ll do it this very night 
if the stars are propitious. None will know. Ay, this 
very night,” he repeated, springing from the rock, “ and 
may it be dark.” 

He picked up the bemired book, and made off downward, 
tingling in awe and determination. The path he took lay 
by Tigh-an-Eas (a fact he overlooked) and thinking in- 
tensely he came slap upon the general and Mr. Carmichael 
at the gate. Retreat being impossible, he went forward, 
greeting them with an assumption of pleasure, 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 115 

“ I congratulate you, sir, on the news from India,” he 
said to the general. ‘‘ The whole town is talking of noth- 
ing else.” 

“ Thank you, thank you,” answered the general. “ Every- 
body is very kind. It’s only at a time like this one discov- 
ers the multitude of one’s friends.” 

“ And the wound’s not so bad as was feared ? ” said Archy 
incontinently. 

“No, luckily it’s not,” responded the general. “It’s 
hoped he’ll soon be back to duty again.” 

Archy had a sensation of plucking at the heart, and his 
discomfort was doubled by the consciousness that Mr. Car- 
michael was observing him intently. 

“ There’ll be many prayers for that, sir,” he said, playing 
the hypocrite because he could not help it. 

“ Many, many prayers,” put in Mr. Carmichael, “ and 
fervent ones too. If you’re going down by, Archy, we’ll 
be stepping together. Well, and where have we been this 
morning ? ” he asked, when they had shaken hands with the 
general. “ Kittling the muirfowls’ tail, eh ? And what’s 
the book ? ” holding out his hand for it. “ Oh ho ! we’re 
into the prophecy, are we ? A stiff subject and much mis- 
understood. Indeed, we start with a misconception. You’ll 
remember that neither in the original Hebrew nor yet in 
Greek is there any warrant for our common interpretation 
of the word. With the men of old, to prophesy was just 
to speak God’s truth, neither more nor less ; and in that 
sense I hope soon to see Mr. Archibald Buchanan among 
the prophets. Oh, by the way, what is this ? ” coming upon 
soiled leaves. “ ‘ Peat on Prophecy.’ That’s a new com- 
mentator, and to be candid, not very alluring.” 

“ I let it drop, sir, and it fell in a runnel among the 
heather,” answered Archy, flushing in spite of himself. 

“Just a bit of absent-mindedness,” said the minister, 


ii6 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

smiling shrewdly. “ Nature wished to exemplify wanton- 
ness and made the human mind, my friend. You sit down 
to theology and, presto ! are rollicking at a fair, resolve upon 
prophecy and dance at a wedding. Tve heard of a saint 
who couldn’t say a paternoster without seeing a pair of en- 
chanting eyes and a mouth for which he would have risked 
heaven. He solemnly recorded it was a trick of the arch 
enemy that calling up of the carnal image in the moment 
of devotion. And to be sure the devil’s a bit of a humour- 
ist ; he plays with the best of us. I came near causing a 
scandal at a prayer-meeting once over a good man praying 
— because he called up incongruous thoughts. I couldn’t 
help it ; and I dare say you could just as little help dropping 
prophecy in the runnel. If a man told me he was always 
master of his thoughts, I should know him for a son of 
Ananias and Sapphira.” 

Archy trembled in a kind of fearful glee, thinking of 
what was in the wind. If Mr. Carmichael knew ! Very 
adroitly the student of divinity gave the question of prophecy 
a modern turn. Did Mr. Carmichael believe in their coun- 
trymen’s notions of the unseen, and the possibility of fore- 
telling coming events Saul went to the witch of Endor, 
he pointed out, and David consulted the oracle. Supposing 
— he put the case entirely for sake of illustration — supposing 
that Mysie Nighean Alister (meaning the ‘‘ wise woman,” 
of Aberfourie) were really gifted with the second sight, as 
people fancied, would it be right to consult her about the 
future, or, consulting, give heed to what she told ? 

Archy put his question with a quickened heart, and an 
uncanny creepiness of the spine. 

“That’s shutting me up in utter darkness and asking me 
to state what I see,” answered Mr. Carmichael, looking 
sharply at his companion. “ I’m really no authority on 
wizards, enchanters, and sorcerers.” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 117 

“ I was thinking, sir, of the supernatural as it touches or 
is supposed to touch the natural,” Archy explained. ‘‘ John- 
son, who was a great man, believed in ghosts.” 

“Yes,” admitted Mr. Carmichael, “Johnson, who cer- 
tainly was a great man, believed in ghosts, and Sir Thomas 
Browne, who just as certainly was a greater man, believed 
in witches. How does the knowledge help us ? As for 
the supernatural, supernatural it must remain, or cease to 
be supernatural. Trying to penetrate it is like taking a 
handful of moonshine — you grasp, and what have you ? ” 

“ Quite so, sir,” said Archy, eager to press home. “ But 
what about reading the future — Mysie for example — and 
the second sight ? ” 

“Take care that your prophetic studies don’t turn your 
head,” replied Mr. Carmichael. “ As for Mysie, all I know 
is that when I visit the poor old body she is glad to see me 
and thinks much of the time, now close at hand, when 
she’ll cease to guess and know all about the future.” 

“ She has never told you anything that’s going to hap- 
pen ? ” 

The question was out before Archy realised that it was 
on his tongue. 

“ I have never asked her,” returned the minister quickly. 

Archy was getting into deep water and knew it. 

“ I didn’t mean to imply that,” he said lamely ; “ but 
you know, sir, when Mrs. Muir’s lassie was drowned in the 
Tay down by here, and they searched for the corpse three 
days without finding it, Mysie told them what pool to drag, 
and sure enough there it was.” 

“Ay, that was a curious thing,” the minister owned 
thoughtfully — “ a very curious and striking thing. I’ll not 
say but I’ve thought of it many a time since. And I could 
tell you more than that.” 

“ More, sir ? ” cried Archy, quivering in every nerve. 


ii8 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ Ay, more,” rejoined Mr. Carmichael ; “ but it wouldn’t 
be good for your health. Besides, here we are at the part- 
ing of the ways, though I hope only in the lower physical 
sense. Think, Archy, that two men beginning a friendship 
in time may carry it through eternity. There’s something 
in that for the imagination to dwell on. Meantime, we 
mustn’t neglect our work, and I’ve half a fear the studies 
are falling into the background.” 

“ Oh, you mustn’t think that, sir,” returned Archy, 
blushing like a maid. 

“ Well then come up your first spare evening and tell me 
about them,” said Mr. Carmichael. And Archy promised. 


CHAPTER V 


Throughout the afternoon Archy kept to his books, 
apparently an exemplary student. When any one chanced 
to be by, his forehead was puckered with an air of con- 
centrated zeal ; when none observed, the forehead bore an- 
other look, and the volume fell neglected. The gift of 
divination being denied them, his father and mother were 
gratified by his extreme studiousness. 

“ He ought to be a dab at the preaching when the time 
comes,” his father remarked. 

‘‘ If study avails,” responded his mother. “ But I hope 
he's not working too hard, poor boy. I've noticed him 
rather white of late.” 

“ Oh, he'll get rosy again once the spurt's over,” the 
banker assured her. ‘‘ Preaching's easy on the health. 
According to my insurance statistics, ministers top the 
list for longevity, a piece of irony when doctors are in the 
reckoning. Ministers have the knack of making the best 
of both worlds.” 

“ Oh, they die young like other people,” said Mrs. 
Buchanan, thinking of the overstudious Archy. 

“No doubt,’' admitted the banker. “But common 
sense takes the average, Catherine. Nothing is more 
misleading than argument based on isolated cases. A 
principle so deduced would be ruinous in business, as all 
bankers are aware. And taking that average, ministers 
tarry on this sinful earth as if loth to go to a better place. 
Perhaps that’s unselfishness. As to the preliminaries, I 
suppose all this painful gathering of dead roots and dry 
twigs is necessary. What becomes of them afterwards is a 
119 


120 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

mystery. Fve heard some reverend heads irreverently 
likened to garrets in which old lumber is stored.” 

“ Fm sure Archy won’t be like that,” responded Mrs. 
Buchanan warmly. 

‘‘ I hope not,” said the banker. “ I most sincerely hope 
not. Still, there’s the risk ; and you’ll not forget, Cathe- 
rine, that the Church was mostly your choice.” 

Like a prudent husband and sound man of business, 
Mr. Buchanan invariably provided the convenient loophole 
in case a disagreeable responsibility should have to be 
shirked. 

“You wouldn’t have him in the bank,” retorted Mrs. 
Buchanan. 

“ That’s true, Catherine, and my reason was simple. A 
banker, generally speaking, has a great deal of other people’s 
money and very little of his own. I wanted to see Archy, 
if possible, reversing these conditions. Not that the kirk 
is paved with gold ; but there are other things. The gen- 
eral, for instance, would have him in the army, though he’s 
never proved to me that the glory of war pays. I know 
his bank account, and there’s nothing in the world, 
Catherine, more illuminative than a man’s bank account.” 
He pursed his mouth, looking exceedingly wise. “ A 
banker’s knowledge is sometimes deep and peculiar,” he 
added. 

“ He knows a good deal of his neighbour’s affairs,” said 
his wife. 

“ He knows the crow from the peacock and twigs the 
beggar on horseback,” returned the banker, “ which is to 
say, my dear, that very often he knows what bonnets and 
dresses are paid for and what are not. But to return ; 
the general is strong for sending Archy into the army.” 

“ And perhaps have him killed or wounded as Ivor is,” 
cried Mrs. Buchanan, in a tremour of affright. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 121 

“Well,” remarked her husband, “if Ivor could see the 
flutter he has caused, he’d be glad, in spite of vi^ounds.” 

Now it so happened that in the same moment precisely 
the same thought was passing through the vexed mind of 
Archy. To him it appeared the town was making itself 
just a trifle ridiculous over Ivor. One would imagine a 
soldier had never before been hurt in the service of his 
country. What would they say if the next word were that 
he was dead ? Archy would not admit even to himself the 
most secret desire for any man’s death. Nevertheless, if 
fate should decree that Ivor was not to recover, the loss 
would not be one for sackcloth and ashes. Well, night, 
which witnesses many things not to be spoken of at noon, 
might bring enlightenment, and to that end he prayed for 
darkness. 

Looking out from his room towards dusk he saw clouds 
flying high, like flocks of scurrying wild geese, and the 
wind was crying weird airs among the trees in the garden. 

“ It’s going to be stormy,” he said to himself with an 
odd sensation ; and remembered that the autumn equinox 
was due. 

When night fell and he stepped forth, making the excuse 
that he needed bracing by a spin in the fresh air, a prelude 
of tempest struck his ear. The sky was a grey whirl 
through which the September moon peered at intervals with 
a tossed, unhappy aspect, as if craving earth’s sympathy. 
The scudding clouds gave the impression of the blown 
manes of wild horses careering in panic, and the piping 
note of the wind was as the long-drawn blast of a distraught 
bugler marshalling deaf or dead men. 

Archy passed down the eddying street, hand on hat, 
nodding here, speaking a casual word there, till he was clear 
of the village. Then buttoning his coat for resolution he 
walked as a man walks to conquer unquiet thoughts or keep 


112 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

an urgent appointment. Two-thirds of a mile out he 
struck into a lonesome craggy ravine in which a mountain 
burn brawled and tumbled, and thence by linns and pools 
to a little wood full of rocks under the shoulder of a grey 
hill ; and in that desolation, as if set apart from her kind, 
lived Mysie Nighean Alister, the wise woman, the lone 
witch wife of Aberfourie. Carndhu, the ruinous heap of 
thatch and stone which sheltered her, was invisible from 
below, and only glimpses of its single chimney and crazy 
gable could be caught from an occasional pinnacle of rock 
above. A black thunder-riven crag frowned upon it from 
behind, and the briars, getting root in what had once some 
semblance to a garden, pressed upon it in front. 

Mysie lived alone, having neither chick nor child, nor, 
so far as was known, kith or kin left. The last of her 
race — a race renowned through three counties for uncanny 
gifts and wisdom — it was fitting she should exist a hermit, 
and cease to exist unseen, unattended. Now and then she 
ventured into the village, always choosing the dusk of even- 
ing ; and as she glided by the hardiest urchin stared in awe, 
or whispered fearfully to his fellow. No one meddled with 
her; she meddled with none, though her malisons were 
known to be terrible and to carry terrible consequences. 
Most folk religiously shunned her; but sometimes people 
sought her with blanched faces, unburdened their hearts in 
whispers, received council beyond human, and forever after 
kept their mouths shut concerning what they had seen and 
heard. Thus superstitions grew and myths multiplied, 
and Mysie’s reputed deeds chilled the blood of the boldest. 

Mr. Carmichael was perhaps the only person who went 
near her with pure Christian intent, and she loved to see 
his soldierly figure stoop beneath her sooty roof-tree. She 
made much of him, too, in her own eerie way, crooning 
and murmuring things which struck awe even to his heart. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 123 

He brought her tea, he brought her tobacco, above all he 
brought her human comfort, and she in whom the fount of 
human sentiment was thought to have long run dry shed 
tears of gratitude. 

“ For your goodness to me God be good to you,” she 
said once in her native Gaelic, taking his hand as a mother 
might take a son’s. “ Heaven’s blessing rest on you and 
yours to the third and fourth generation, ay, and many 
generations after. Strange things will happen in the time 
to come, when Mysie is not here to see ; but One liveth 
forever, ay. One who never grows old and is not weary.” 

And the minister bowed himself as to a benediction. 

But Archy knew nothing of these common traits. From 
the first glimmer of memory Mysie Nighean Alister had 
been to him the weird mother of superstitions, a suspected 
trafficker with witches, if not actually herself a witch, a 
known dabbler in the ghostly, a teller of things to come ; 
and as he drew near Carndhu all the unholy stories he had 
ever heard of her revolved in his mind, bringing the grue 
of a creepy fear to his marrow. All the same, it never 
occurred to him to turn back. 

For guide he had but the light of a tiny wind-blown 
flame, which danced like a delirious will-o’-the-wisp, in the 
window, emphasising the blackness. All at once the moon 
shone out, revealing the hut huddled against the impending 
crag, and he had a glimpse of trees above, rocking and 
lashing as in rage or pain. Then the driven mass of cloud 
closed again and the hut was blotted out, save for the 
flicker of the wind-blown crusie. Archy stood a moment 
breathing very hard and fast, then he set his teeth and 
went on swiftly, like one who expects the worst and wants 
it over quickly. 

The lighted window faced his path, and blinds being 
beyond Carndhu, he looked, as he advanced, straight into 


124 the eternal quest 

the interior dimness. And before his starting eyes there 
shaped itself in the gloom a form compounded, as it seemed, 
of the very elements of darkness. It rose, apparently in 
the middle of the floor, and there stood swathed in a loose 
robe, erect and motionless. If Archy never knew terror 
before, he knew it mortally then. Were his hopes of 
heaven depending on action, he could not have lifted a 
finger or winked an eye. Frozen in an agony of dread, 
he stood helpless, gazing on the grisly thing looming 
within. And whether it was that his eyes grew keener 
with fear or the light grew stronger, he presently discerned 
a face — a wizened, withered face, seamed with age, luridly 
dark, and wrought to unearthly tensity of expression. He 
could just see the gleam of one upturned eye and the lines 
of the drawn mouth. On a sudden the figure swayed like 
a reed in the wind, the arms raised, first as if groping for 
support, and then as if stretched in supplication. Thus 
outstretched, they trembled violently, and instantly the 
whole body began to rock, the bosom heaving convulsively 
as for breath. At that the figure turned towards him, and 
he saw the face of Mysie plain, working as in the extremity 
of pain. The next moment she sank staggering on a 
seat. Half a minute he watched the heave of the crouched 
shoulders ; then as if drawn by a spell he rushed forward, 
an excruciating gurgle in his throat. Startled by the noise, 
Mysie ran to the door. 

“ Who is it comes disturbing folks on a night like this ? ” 
she demanded in Gaelic, peering into the darkness. 

“ A friend,” answered Archy hoarsely. 

“ A friend ? ” repeated Mysie. “ And comes a friend so 
furtively ? ” 

She turned and seized the crusie, holding it up and 
shielding the flame with her hand as she tried to scan the 
countenance of her visitor, 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 125 

“ Oh, Mr. Archibald Buchanan ! she cried with a note 
of extreme astonishment. ‘‘ And what brings you to 
Carndhu — ^you who have never darkened its doors till this 
night ? ” 

“To have a word with you, Mysie, if I may,” replied 
Archy, shaking like one taken with the ague. 

“ A word with me ? ” she rejoined — “ and you, by all 
accounts, a learned college man. What can a man with 
the learning of the college want with a word from the 
like of me ? ” 

Without waiting for an answer she swung on her heel, 
set the crusie in its place, and returned to her visitor. 

“ Neither your father nor your father’s son has ever 
done good or harm to me,” she said. “ Will you be 
stepping in by ? ” 

He passed in, bending almost double. She set him her 
only chair, and he seated himself in the murkiness of the 
pit. A fire of green sticks hissed on the hearth, sending 
out an acrid, pungent smoke that soon had him coughing 
and weeping copiously. Through his tears he marked 
that the floor was of beaten clay strewn with rushes, that 
walls and rafters were as soot, and that besides a bed and 
the chair on which he sat there were not six articles of 
furniture in the room. 

“ Oh dear, what a night ! ” he said, as a blinding swirl 
came down the chimney. 

“ Ay,” assented Mysie, who stood regarding him closely, 
“ a sore night.” 

He sprang to his feet, begging her to take the chair. 

“ Sit you down,” she returned without moving — “ sit 
you down.” And there was something in her tone which 
constrained instant obedience. 

“ Ay,” she repeated, as another swirl came down, “ it’s 
a sore night. I’m thinking there hasn’t been such a night 


126 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

since Ian Ban lost himself in the Eilan pool down by here 
at the time of the great spate.” 

In the murkiness he saw her skinny fingers twining, 
and the expression which had first sent the blood from 
his face was returning to hers. 

“Winds and spates are bad things,” she continued, 
“ and it’s queer it is you have come to me this night of 
all nights in the year, just when I was thinking of you.” 

“ Thinking of me, Mysie ? ” he said, an additional chill 
creeping down his spine. 

“ Thinking even of you, Mr. Archibald Buchanan, 
though I had little reason for it. But thoughts come and 
thoughts go, like the doings of fate, without our leave. 
Ivor Malcolm is going his father’s way,” she added 
abruptly. 

“ Yes,” replied Archy j “ he’s wounded and in danger 
of his life.” 

“ I was hearing something like that.” 

“ Oh, you have heard, then ? ” 

“Just a word on the wind in the going by. For those 
who meet Mysie by the burnside in the gloaming are 
mostly in a hurry. And it’s queer you have come at this 
moment.” 

The old terror was coming back upon Archy. He was 
frantically eager to state his business and fly, for heaven 
alone knew what uncanny thing might happen, but his 
tongue was paralysed. And while he sat in stewing torture, 
feeling as if he should never get away alive, Mysie stepped 
close and bent over him. 

“ I must tell you,” she said in a tense voice — “ I must 
tell you.” 

“ Tell me, Mysie ? ” he gasped, his heart thumping so 
that he was dizzy. 

“ Yes j I must tell you of the vision,” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 127 

‘‘ The vision ? ’’ he cried, leaping to his feet. 

“ The vision. Sit you down quiet and listen,” she said, 
and he fell back on his chair. “ And when I am tell- 
ing, you must not speak or interrupt me, for the thing 
brought fear to my soul, and the telling must be in my 
own way.” 

“ I won’t speak or interrupt,” he replied, the cold sweat 
breaking on his forehead. 

He gripped the sides of his chair, and set his teeth for 
life or death. 

“ I was by myself in the gloaming,” Mysie began in a 
low voice, “ listening to the wind and thinking of the past. 
Old times and the folk that are gone came back. Three 
score years — nearly three times your span of life, Mr. 
Archibald, for I mind well the day the banker’s heir was 
born — three score years fell like a shadow from my sight, 
and Mysie — oh, God bless me ! — Mysie, for as old and 
wrinkled as she is to-night, Mysie was a lassie again, soft 
cheeked and laughing with the merriest. The spirits of 
the departed rose — you need not start — ay, they rose sweet 
and bonnie as flowers in the summer prime. Not so much 
as a look was changed, for you see three score years were 
rolled back and the dead came to life again with love and 
kindness shining in their faces, just as they used to be. 
Oh, it was a bonnie and a heartsome sight. And then in the 
wink of an eye everything was changed. A great noise got 
up. I thought it might be the wind getting wilder, or 
maybe the burn coming down in spate from hill-rain. So I 
listened, but it was neither wind nor water, and by that I 
knew what was come upon me.” 

She paused a second, her hand at her side, panting, her 
eyes wild, as it seemed, with fear. 

“ Well, the noise grew, first like a mighty wind in a for- 
est, then like the champing of a million horses on their 


128 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

bits, and then like the white racers of the sea when they 
fling themselves, as men tell, and shiver in rage on the rocks 
of Ardnamurchan. In the midst of it came great compan- 
ies of men and horses, hurrying, thronging on each other — 
long, long lines of them, the men with wild fierce faces, the 
horses dripping with foam. There were hills, too, where 
they were, but not the bonnie hills of Scotland, and wide, 
dusty plains, and an ugly, dirty river coiling like a yellow 
serpent. Ah, it was not the clear bright waters of the Tay. 
And more men kept coming, trampling and shouting, and 
they brought with them big guns on wheels that bumped 
and rocked behind the galloping horses. And then — then 
Mr. Archibald came before my eyes the Highland kilts, and 
I looked close and made out the dark tartan of the 42 d Am 
Freiceadan Dubh. The men had not their feather bon- 
nets, but the pipes played, though 'what the tune was I 
could not tell. The Highlanders passed out of sight; and 
then began the thunder of shooting, and after that a con- 
fused noise, with everybody mad like, and I saw bayonets 
flashing red. Then before you could turn there came a 
great rushing and big rings of fire — living, leaping fire — 
like lightning, and men fell like corn in harvest before the 
scythe. The red blood was on the sight, only foul with 
dirt ; and when all was at its worst out of the smoke and 
flame burst a horseman, bareheaded and frantic. His spurs 
were dripping crimson and he slashed and shot as he rode. 
Something was on the saddle before him, and I saw it was 
a man. And as I looked the horseman turned half round 
to hit, for a dozen was striking at him, so that I saw his 
face, white and terrible, with a gash of blood across the 
forehead, and oh, Archibald Buchanan, my flesh crept on 
my bones, for I knew that face.’^ 

“ Whose ? ” said Archie hoarsely, leaping up and grip- 
ping her by the arm— “ whose f 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 129 

She looked in his drawn, ashy countenance and terrified 
eyes. 

“ Can you bear it ? she asked. 

“ Bear ? ” he repeated, shaking like an aspen — “ bear ? 
I can bear anything but suspense.’’ 

She drew her hand across her eyes, as if to clear them of 
mist. 

“ I cannot tell you,” she cried, falling suddenly back 
from him. No, no, I must not tell you.” 

He stared a moment, as one stares whose breath is struck 
out of him. 

“ Cannot tell me ? ” he returned, a choking constriction 
in his throat. “ Then — then I must be somehow 
concerned.” 

She seized him by the arm. 

“ Hush, hush I ” she said. “ It brings the grue to think 
of it.” 

And he noted as a strange thing that tears were pouring 
down her face. 


CHAPTER VI 


Though among his companions Archy was reputed cool 
as well as clear-witted, you would have asked him in vain 
how that interview ended. A confused notion of abject 
horror and precipitate flight he had ; but no clear remem- 
brance or perception till he halted suddenly half a mile 
down the ravine, with cracking sides and knees that bent 
nervelessly. At the point when further running was im- 
possible, if Death himself pursued, he faced about, expect- 
ing a troop of broomstick hags or a Gehenna of smoke and 
flame, he could not tell which. It was a relief to find a 
desolate world still intact — the hills looming blackly, the 
wind whistling a shrill crescendo, and overhead the tem- 
pestuous moon blinking through the driven wrack. 

A giddiness seized him, and he dropped on hands and 
knees to drink from the running stream. 

“ Thank God for water ! ” he said to himself — “ thank 
God for water ! ” 

He rose, putting his hand to his head, and was surprised 
to find it bare. 

“ Must be losing my wits,” he thought, wondering when 
his hat had been blown off. 

Presently he was on the high road, and his mind beating 
more calmly, he began to consider the events of the 
evening. 

What could Mysie’s vision portend ? Whose was the 
face that durst not be named ? Was Mysie demented ? 
He could not soothe himself with that simple idea. 
Whatever reason or philosophy might say, dire events 
130 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 13 1 

were impending, and he, the peaceful student of divinity, 
was in some mysterious way concerned. He blamed 
himself vehemently for going near Mysie ; but he had 
gone, tempted her to speak, and must now make the 
best of a torment of apprehension. 

He began the process by pacing up and down the for- 
saken road in a feverish endeavour to think, but the effort 
proving futile, he turned into Aberfourie with the vague 
intention of going home. Half way up the main street he 
came upon Tom Crerar, the wooden-legged watchman, 
tottering in the gale, and such was his instant feeling of 
sympathy that he must needs turn aside and give Tom a 
pipe of tobacco. The pair thereupon sought a quiet corner 
and lighted up, as comrades in discomfort should. Then 
Archy heard of the tribulations of a watchman who finds 
himself growing old and stiff in the joints and is grievously 
hampered by a wooden leg. Like every second Highlander 
you meet maimed in eye or limb, Tom in youth accepted 
the queen's shilling, and on great days still wore his medals. 
Archy artfully mentioned battlefields. Terrible things, he 
supposed, occurred in battle when each side was bent on 
wiping out the other. Tom sucked reminiscently at his 
pipe. He would not deny that Archy's supposition was 
right. Indeed one or two incidents worth remembering 
had come within his own experience. As Archy would 
understand, he had just been in time for the Crimea and 
the Mutiny : enlisted at seventeen with a burning thirst for 
glory, and three months later was packed off as a target 
for foreign lead. He had looked on the Light Brigade 
following Cardigan down the North Valley, and heard 
Nolan shriek when the first Russian shell tore his heart 
out. All who saw thought Cardigan mad, and stood still 
to watch. 

“And I can tell you," said Tom impressively, taking 


132 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

the pipe from his mouth, “ when fighting men do that, 
something’s happening.” 

“ Something was happening,” replied Archy, with a per- 
sonal interest the other could not divine. 

“Ay,” rejoined Tom, “ten squadrons of British cavalry 
were riding into hell. That is what was happening.” 

“‘Into the jaws of death, into the mouth of hell,’ as 
Tennyson says,” remarked Archy. 

“ As who says ? ” demanded Tom. 

“Tennyson, an English poet,” answered Archy. 

“Maybe he was there and maybe he wasn’t,” said Tom 
contemptuously. “ I was, and I tell you it was ten 
squadrons of our cavalry riding into hell. There was 
no stoppin’ about the mouth with Cardigan leadin’. I’ll 
say that for him, mad or no mad. They went straight 
for the twelve-gun battery between two banks of fire 
until they were lost in the smoke of the guns.” 

“ In the smoke of the guns,” repeated Archy, his mind 
running on Mysie’s vision. 

“ Ay, the smoke and the red fire dartin’ through it. I 
can see it now.” 

“ And what were they like when they came back — what 
was left of them ? ” 

“ Oh, just as ye might expect men to look who came 
back out of hell sooty and far-through.” 

“ Had they wild faces ? ” queried Archy, thinking with an 
eerie tremour of Mysie’s picture. 

“ Wild faces ?” cried Tom, stirred by warlike memories. 
“Don’t be speakin’ of it. Wild faces? You never 
know what they are till you have seen what I saw — and I 
have seen worse than the faces of them that came back 
from the fire of the Russian guns,” he added — “ much, 
much worse.” 

He went off at a bound to the Mutiny, which he de- 


133 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

scribed with circumstantial detail ; but what Archy ever 
saw was a single horseman riding out of flame and smoke, 
gashed and bleeding, yet cutting and hitting as he went. 
For the sake of diversion he asked Tom if he had ever 
served under General Malcolm. 

“No,” replied Tom, “but I know them that did, and he 
was just like Cardigan — no stoppin’ short with him once 
the order was given. And faith, for as soothly as he lays 
it off now, his reverence was every bit as fond of the fight. 
Pm jalousin* he’d as soon be fightin’ as preachin’ any 
time.” 

Tom added it was a pleasure to find Ivor treading in his 
father’s footsteps. 

“ Mark me,” he said with the emphasis of conviction, 
“ one of two things will happen — he’ll get killed or he’ll 
get on. I know a soldier when I see him, and Mr. 
Malcolm’s one to the heart.” 

But at that Archy discovered it was high time to be a-bed, 
so having refilled Tom’s pipe he left the trusty watchman 
to smoke in peace. 

On reaching home he was gratified to find the house in 
darkness ; but on slipping in with the aid of a latch-key, as 
he thought unheard, his mother appeared in the hall holding 
a lighted candle. 

“ What has kept you ? ” she asked in a tone of rebuke ; 
and then before he could answer : “ Archy, what’s wrong ? 
Has anything happened to you ? ” 

“ Why ? What makes you ask that ? ” was the re- 
sponse. “ Nothing has happened to me.” 

“ Oh, your face tells another tale,” she persisted, looking 
him in the eyes. 

“ Hush, mother, or you’ll rouse the house.” 

He took her into the little sitting-room where she had 
waited for him. 


134 the eternal QUEST 

“ Mother,” he said with forced jauntiness, “ if you have 
a glass of wine about. Til take it. That wind has made 
me thirsty.” 

She brought wine, and as he drank marked that his hand 
shook. The wine gulped, he threw himself into a chair, 
and drawing close she bent over him. 

“ Archy, dear,” she said softly, “ something’s wrong.” 

“You are much too imaginative, mother,” he replied. 
“You really mustn’t be getting ridiculous ideas into your 
head.” 

. “Oh, there’s something,” she insisted. “You’re not 
hurt?” 

“ As whole as you ever saw me, mother.” 

Then a terrifying idea flashed upon her. 

“You haven’t done anything to be afraid of, dearie?” 
she asked, her voice quivering. 

“ Nothing, mother — nothing whatever.” 

“Then you’ll just tell me what it is.” 

She bent a little closer, stroking his hair. 

“What in the world makes you imagine there is any- 
thing to tell ? ” he demanded, with a touch of impatience. 

“ Your looks, dearie — and you’ll just tell me. My own 
boy won’t keep what’s troubling him from his mother.” 

He rose and kissed her, laughing at her perturbation. 

“ Mother,” he said, “ that’s the best wine I’ve ever 
tasted. “ See what it is to be dry.” 

He seized the decanter to pour himself out another 
glass. 

“There’s a good mother,” he said coaxingly, as she 
made a sign of protest — “just one drop more. It warms 
one, and to tell you the truth I have felt cold to-night. 
Here’s long life and happiness to the best mother in 
Aberfourie or anywhere else. When I’m in the pulpit, 
mother,” he went on, “ I’ll preach you rousing sermons 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 135 

— sermons that’ll make the ‘ unco guid and the rigidly 
righteous ’ uneasy in their cushioned pews.” 

The wine sent a genial glow through him ; the reaction 
of feeling brought the spirit of bravado. 

“ The greatest and best of all things is to be a good 
preacher, dearie,” responded his mother. 

“ So people say. I wonder if all think so. My private 
opinion is, that preachers are afraid of the truth. I’ve a 
theory.” 

“ Yes, dear ? How tangled your hair is, Archy.” 

“ Oh, I forgot to tell you I lost my hat in the wind — a 
good thing too, if the brain is gathering cobwebs. Yes, 
I’ve a notion ministers of religion are too mealy-mouthed. 
They’re like you, mother, when you used to beguile me 
into taking medicine. It’s ‘Won’t you please be good, 
beloved, and God will give you something very nice, see 
if He doesn’t,’ as if sinners were to be coaxed into heaven 
with sugar candy. Pagh ! You must frighten the beggars; 
wheedling’s no use, for it’s the distressing truth, mother 
dear, that for every one who’ll be cajoled into holiness by 
promise of indefinite happiness, ten will repent from fear. 
Fear’s the great agent. That’s my theory. The pulpit’s 
got to put the fear of perdition into the pew if it’s to do 
any good.” 

“ Hush, dearie, you must not talk like that.” 

“ Oh, the thing’s no discovery of mine. Wise men 
found it out ages and ages ago, and I’m going to make it 
the basis of my preaching.” 

He laughed, not ill-pleased to see her shocked. 

“ I’ve hope of doing much good,” he continued. “Mean- 
while, don’t you be going about with fancies in your head 
about things happening to me. I’m safe and sound. There, 
good-night. You look tired.” 

“ Good-night,” she answered, a pang at her heart, be- 


136 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

cause she was losing her boy’s confidence. “ Oh, by the 
way,” she added, “ have you heard the latest from Tigh- 
an-Eas ? The general got word to-night that Ivor’s doing 
well, and hopes very soon to be at duty again. We’re all 
so glad.” 

“ Ah ! ” said Archy, with an expression which puzzled 
his mother; and went to bed feeling that the man who did 
the shooting did it exceedingly ill. 


CHAPTER VII 


In general a prime sleeper, Archy nevertheless lay pain- 
fully awake throughout that night. But if the “ soft em- 
balmer of the still midnight ** proved false (as is so often 
the way of the soft embalmer in a crisis), he had thereby 
the greater leisure to master a very serviceable bit of phi- 
losophy — to wit, that kicking against the pricks hurts none 
but the kicker. The stars in their courses fought against 
Sisera; the stars in their courses still exhibited the same 
malign partiality; which is to say that the Fates were spite- 
fully mysterious and exasperating. 

At first Archy was for red unbridled rebellion, for the 
wrath of two-and-twenty would vengefully scale the very 
heavens. In that furious mood he leaped out of bed, and 
began to pace the room, his brain a furnace of vengeance. 
Passing the window, he drew aside the blind and looked 
out. The wind had driven off the clouds and was falling, 
its task accomplished. The stars were out, the old cynical 
stars that had looked unmoved on all the disappointment 
and chagrin, and cruelty and tragedy, of man, and still 
twinkled in exquisite mockery. By an incongruous flight 
of the mind he remembered that Keats, the poet of lovers, 
had passionately apostrophised a star, weaving in some 
sublime nonsense about being pillowed on his fair love’s 
breast — Keats, who died because a flirt declined him for 
her husband ! The devil confound all babblers, beginning 
with poets. 

He dropped the blind and resumed his pacing. It chanced 
that the window was open, and the night air blowing upon 
him reduced his temperature. With a little shiver of pure, 

137 


138 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

healthy cold he presently sprang back into bed, and tucked 
himself in, glad that blankets are warm. It was in that 
cooler mood that he came by degrees upon wisdom. 

‘‘The fated will happen,’’ he told himself with the fatal- 
ism of the Highlander — “the fated will certainly happen.” 

But to abstain from kicking is not always to lie back 
submissively. At most Archy was not more than half a 
Turk. He might indeed say “Kismet,” but to fold the 
hands resignedly was not in his nature. Considering the 
situation with himself, he slowly but firmly made up his 
mind, and with mind made up awaited the sun. 

By his friends it was generally taken that on a day not 
very far ahead, Archy was destined to step into Mr. Car- 
michael’s shoes. He had himself dwelt on that consumma- 
tion with gleeful thrills, though it was the manse rather 
than the kirk which fascinated, the manse made rosy-bright 
by somebody’s presence. But suddenly the whole prospect 
was changed, quite changed. Mr. Carmichael’s shoes were 
for somebody else, not for him. Far away from Aberfourie 
he would seek his fortune, a bitter, disappointed man, a 
grim saturnine Timon of the pulpit. Yet he dwelt with 
sensations not wholly disagreeable on the idea of exile. It 
should be as fate would have it. There would be no 
prayer that she might regret her choice; but he entertained 
the flattering thought that one day long, long hence she 
would think of him tenderly, and sigh and be sorry, when 
he, it might be, was beyond the reach of sentiment. 

In truth, Archy, being young and in love, passed by the 
most natural process in the world from the raging to the 
sentimental. The sentimentality, however, in no wise 
affected his resolution. So with a perfectly self-possessed 
manner, if also a face some shades paler than usual, he 
came down to breakfast. His mother watched him anx- 
iously, but to her relief he bore himself as if nothing un- 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 139 

common had occurred at midnight, and no great purpose 
lay fixed in his mind. 

Instead of turning to his books, he took a long walk by 
the Tay, quietly and meditatively. That morning the 
river seemed more than ever a part of his life. He had 
seen it in every mood of anger and laughter, had waded 
in it barelegged for pearls, rowed on it, fished in it, bathed 
in it with ineffable joy against orders, and loved it under all 
conditions. Now he came to look upon it perhaps for the 
last time. In a hidden corner among the rocks he sat gaz- 
ing at the running water, a gleam in the mellow autumn 
sun, and his heart swelled within him, as swells the heart 
of the patriot with love of home and kin. There it flowed 
peacefully, his own river crooning in rippling cadences, as 
it had crooned for immemorial ages to the generations now 
taking their rest in the folds of the hills. Through the 
mountain glens the heath was taking back to itself the 
graves of unremembered men, whose hearts had been 
soothed, whose ear had been charmed, by the very song to 
which he listened. What recked they now of all the 
joy or fret of life ? What should he reck when his world, 
too, had vanished like “ a shadow in the dark.” Men fell 
into fevers — for what ? A soft word, a caressing smile, the 
touch of a hand. A gleam of moonshine and lo ! the heart 
is on fire. “ Vanity of vanities,” quoth the love-lorn pessi- 
mist, “ vanity of vanities, all is vanity.” Man loves and 
hates, and behold, this also is vanity. For to put trust in 
maid is vain “ as laughter over wine,” and to be wroth be- 
cause of woman’s inconstancy is to play the fool inimit- 
ably. 

Under the spell of these feelings Archy leaned forward, 
head in hands, musing ardently among the mossy rocks. 
For a little the world was not worth a wise man’s whistle. 
Then certain figures rose afresh in all their charm, and the 


140 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

world became bitter-sweet — ay, very precious, a thing to 
give one’s soul for, in spite of the owl philosophy. 

Returning to luncheon, he read the latest intelligence of 
England’s little war, dwelling with a dizzy head on the 
message about Ivor. Unquestionably the bullet had done 
its work badly. But he must not think any more of that. 
What he, the man of the world, had to do, was to hide his 
rent nerve, and smile, protecting his pride. Therefore, 
having carefully spruced himself up, he started for Tigh- 
an-Eas to offer his congratulations. 

The general received him with beaming affability, and 
heart-stirring appreciation of his good feeling. Everybody, 
declared the old soldier, was kind, overwhelmingly kind, 
over this little affair of Ivor’s. It made one young again 
to have all this enthusiasm and sympathy and flood of good 
wishes, and for himself he was totally at a loss how to ex- 
press even a fraction of his gratitude or his gratification. 

While he paid handsome tribute to his neighbour’s vir- 
tues, Flora and Coleena tripped out of the house, with 
Marjorie between. Archy felt that the fighting of battles 
was trivial compared to the ordeal of facing girls in such 
circumstances. As they drew near he could see that all 
three bore traces of recent emotion. They were smiling 
now, but their eyes were hardly yet dry, and he divined 
they had been crying together out of pure joy. Then, 
doubtless, they rose up singing hymns of adoration. That 
was ever the way with girls, thought the new-made cynic. 
First they weep, then they laugh, then adjust their ribbons 
and come forth more embarrassing than a host of men. 

Instinctively Archy watched Marjorie’s face. It was very 
white and seemed thin, yet gave the impression of radiant 
happiness. She gave him her hand, and for half a second 
the two looked into each other’s eyes. In that half-second 
he realised with a fresh pang what he was losing. It was 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 141 

idle to make light of his loss, to talk highly of the good 
fish still in the sea. Let others play the hypocrite with 
themselves and quote musty proverbs. To him, in the re- 
surge of passion, she was worth all else. Before heaven 
he would that instant give his soul for her. 

With a touch of colour and confusion Marjorie turned 
and took a seat beside the general. He, too, regarded her 
intently, admiringly, thinking of the tragic folly of young 
hearts. Something within was stinging Archy desperately. 
Yet he kept a fair face as he listened to Flora and Coleena 
repeating his commanding officer’s praise of Ivor, with 
comments and additions. The man of the world was 
learning the use of masks, and the young ladies were too 
eager and exuberant to dream of dissembled sentiment. 
“Wasn’t the news from India splendid?” they asked. 
“ Wasn’t Ivor a brick ? Wouldn’t he, Archibald Buchanan, 
like to be a soldier and get mentioned in dispatches ? ” the 
last question being Coleena’s. He answered chivalrously 
that the news from India was splendid, that Ivor most de- 
' cidedly was a brick, that he Archibald Buchanan, was 
tempted to become a soldier; and ended gallantly by con- 
gratulating them on having such a brother, did it so grace- 
fully and naturally, too, that Coleena could have embraced 
him for reward. That form of appreciation being forbid- 
den, she plucked a sprig of heather from her bosom, and 
with her own silken fingers put it in his buttonhole. In 
the operation her hand touched his, making it tingle pleas- 
antly. He looked in her face, and she smiled back at him, 
dimpling her tanned cheeks and displaying her small white 
teeth. 

“ A charming girl,” thought Archy. “ When she’s 
older she’ll do havoc.” 

Already she had a touch of the magic that haunts men in 
dreams. 


142 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ I’m sorry it’s not white,” she said, stepping back as in 
admiration. “ But I haven’t got a bit of white this year, 
and that’s unlucky, isn’t it ? ” she asked, her head laid 
aside so that her hair shone like gold. 

“ Mere superstition,” said Archy emphatically. 

“ Thank you,” she responded, throwing herself on a rug 
at her father’s feet. “ Men are so wise and know so 
much.” 

“ And little girls are so pert and know so little,” said her 
father, with a downward glance. 

“ I didn’t mean to be pert,” she returned demurely, and 
looked at Archy as if craving forgiveness. 

In the break which followed Marjorie remarked that her 
father was wondering why Archy had not called upon him 
for some time. 

‘‘ Perhaps you’re busy preparing for the opening of the 
session ? ” she ventured. 

He looked at her as if to say “You know the reason, 
and that’s not it.” But what he said was : 

“Yesj one is naturally busy at the opening of a ses- 
sion.” 

Her few words, her simple look, had set all his pulses 
galloping. Heavens, that she would but evince half the in- 
terest in theology she was evincing in war ! By all the 
rules of the game divinity ought to lie nearer her heart 
than soldiering, but the eternal perversity of woman broke 
all rules. 

“ I am going to him now,” said Archy after a pause. 
“To say good-bye,” he added, watching the effect. 

“ Good-bye ? ” they all cried together. 

“Yes,” replied Archy innocently, “good-bye.” 

Marjorie started in manifest concern. She turned a 
little paler, he was 5ure of that, and her fingers drummed 
in her lap. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 143 

“ I am going up a few days earlier this time,” he ex- 
plained ; “ certain things have to be done before the open- 
ing day, which must be done in Edinburgh.” 

“ I saw Mrs. Buchanan this morning,” said Coleena ; 
“ and she mentioned nothing about your going away.” 

“ She doesn’t know,” announced Archy. 

“ Oh ! ” cried Coleena, wagging a reproachful forefinger, 
“ keeping your secrets from your mother. You’ll be keep- 
ing them from your wife when you get one.” 

“ Perhaps ignorance is bliss to wives and mothers,” he 
returned, laughing. 

“ If I had a husband who kept things from me,” rejoined 
Coleena severely ; “ I’d — I’d ” 

“What ? ” asked Archy merrily. 

“Just turn him inside out and see for myself,” she re- 
plied, compressing her red lips. 

The general gurgled in amusement. 

“You’ll find easier tasks than that, my dear,” he re- 
marked. “A secretive husband is only matched by a 
secretive wife, and both are as hard to pick as a captured 

spy-” 

“ I’d pick him,” declared Coleena, with a determined 
nod. “Wouldn’t you, dear? ” turning to Marjorie. 

Majorie’s face went scarlet. 

“ I don’t know,” she answered doubtfully ; “ it’s hard to 
pick secrets.” 

“ Quite right, my dear,” put in the general ; “ and I’m 
not sure it’s wise to try. When you marry use your hus- 
band tenderly. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that 
men are made for taking to pieces, like toy watches in the 
hands of little boys. That way lies domestic trouble. Let 
me tell you a story in a dozen words, an owre true tale, in 
the good Scots phrase. Once I had a friend whom heaven 
blessed with one of the most charming wives in India, He 


144 the eternal QUEST 

worshipped her, as was fitting. Nothing that she thought 
or did or said was wrong. But one day he returned home 
unexpectedly to find his angel among the letters in his 
pockets. It seems a small thing, yet the idol was shattered 
on the spot. From that moment she ceased to be an angel 
and the sequel was not happy. Let lovely young ladies be 
warned. God made man an odd, inconsistent, unaccount- 
able creature, given now to fervent worship, now to heart- 
breaking absurdity. He hates being spied on, and fumes 
when his pockets are rifled by the wife of his bosom.” 

“ I suppose he’s a little like Bob,” observed Coleena, 
stroking the collie beside her. ‘‘Treat him well, and 
he’s disposed to be good.” 

“A little like Bob,” returned the general. “Treat him 
well and he’s disposed to be good. Treat him ill and — you 
incur risks. And now,” rising and shaking himself, “ shall 
we go into the garden and see how the last of the apples 
are doing ? ” 

The girls hailed the suggestion with delight ; but Archy, 
pleading he had much to do, begged to be excused. 

“We’ll see you again, then, before you leave,” said the 
general. 

“ If possible ; but if not they would understand it was 
because he had much to get through in twenty-four hours.” 

“Twenty-four hours!” cried Coleena. “Why, that’s 
to-morrow I ” 

“ Yes,” replied Archy gravely, “ I leave to-morrow.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


A MAN taken suddenly in the hurricane of pride moves 
\vith unwitting celerity. When Archy went to Tigh-an- 
Eas on a mission of courtesy he had as much intention of 
saying a final “ good-bye ” as of essaying a gymnastic ex- 
hibition on the topmost chimney-pot. He called meaning, 
like any accomplished man of the world, to indulge, for 
friendship’s sake, in half-an-hour’s agreeable insincerities, 
and lo ! there was Marjorie to blow good intentions to the 
winds. 

At sight of her he became excited and embarrassed ; then 
as he noted that she too was ill at ease, vanity began to 
tickle with diabolic subtlety. He would discover what 
power he still had over her; so choosing the dramatic 
moment he announced that he was going to Edinburgh at 
once. Like a double-dyed cynic he remembered even 
while he spoke that in dealing with an artful sex one is 
mostly in the dark. An infallible wisdom told him that in 
critical moments no man can tell how a girl thinks or feels. 
But observing narrowly, Archy did imagine that his words 
Caused Marjorie a shock. He could only imagine, how- 
ever; and the announcement made he must needs stand by 
it. And it was the decision into which he was trapped by 
vanity and pride that led him on his way home to turn 
aside to the manse. 

He found Mrs. Carmichael dressed to visit the sick ; but 
she stayed chatting with him in the drawing-room, because, 
like most of her neighbours, she had a fondness for Archy, 
independently of the fact that his father held the town 
purse. Perhaps she saw in him a possible son-in-law, and 
145 


146 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

if he were to succeed her husband what more natural or 
pleasing than that she should herself be succeeded by 
Marjorie. The thought was a cosy one to grow old on. 

She regretted that Marjorie was out, at Tigh-an-Eas she 
rather fancied. Like the rest of them the poor lassie had 
been upset by the news of Ivor’s wound. And, indeed, it 
was very sad, wasn’t it, that so fine a young soldier should 
be hit in what was practically his first battle ? But every- 
body was glad to know he was recovering. Please God 
he would be spared to them; and when he returned he 
should have such a reception as Aberfourie never gave or 
witnessed in all its previous existence. General Malcolm 
and the young ladies must be proud, very proud. In fact, 
they were all proud, as they had good cause to be. Archy 
politely agreed. She could hardly have said anything too 
outrageous for his urbanity. For when one is following 
the rules of good-breeding what matters a masked feeling, 
or an acted fib, more or less ? 

With equal agreeableness Mrs. Carmichael swung to his 
own affairs. He would be going back to college very soon, 
she supposed. Yes, he was going at once. 

“ At once ? ” she repeated. “ Dearie me, that’s very 
sudden, isn’t it ? ” 

A little sudden perhaps, he admitted ; but it was neces- 
sary to do certain things before the opening day, and it was 
best to get them done in good time. Archy was amazed 
by his own facility in finding pat and convincing reasons. 
Provided one resolutely cooped up the conscience the pro- 
fession of a man of the world would be easy and pleasant. 
To be agreeable one had only to do — as he was doing now. 
He looked in Mrs. Carmichael’s benignant face, wondering 
what the effect would be if people always told the truth, 
the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Stripped of 
the robe of hypocrisy, how many saintly people would 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 147 

shiver in sheer nakedness ! Well, the man of the world 
was not going to play the censor. Human gifts are many, 
and the talent for pleasing deception is not the least of 
them. 

Smiling in motherly encouragement, Mrs. Carmichael 
took it as a good augury to find him so eager for study. He 
had been working very hard of late, had he not and, in- 
deed, he looked paler than was quite natural at his time of 
life. He must not overwork himself. Learning is good, 
but she accounted health better. Archy replied she was 
perfectly right; and solemnly promised not to drive the 
mind at too great a cost to the body. 

Then having nodded and beamed and murmured in agree- 
ment with all she said, he inquired if Mr. Carmichael were 
at home. Yes, he was busy in his study. 

“Too busy to be disturbed ? asked Archy. 

“ By any one else,” answered Mrs. Carmichael — “ never 
too busy to see you. He’s been wondering what had come 
over you. We’ll just go to him,” and she led the way to 
her husband’s workroom. 

Judging by the minister’s ruffled looks when the door 
opened, he was wrestling direly with sin and getting the 
worst of it. But at sight of Archy his face lighted and he 
rose, his hand extended in welcome. Mrs. Carmichael 
stood a moment smiling on the pair, as if gratified to see 
them together. 

“ Well, I’ll be going,” she said when Archy was com- 
fortably seated, and she went, closing the door upon two 
embarrassed men. From his easy-chair Archy looked up 
sheepishly at Mr. Carmichael, and Mr. Carmichael, re- 
seated at his desk, looked back in manifest uncertainty at 
Archy. Both were thinking of the passionate scene under 
the stars, when Archy, desperate lest Ivor should steal a 
march on him, preferred a request, and got an answer which 


148 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

stung like a scorpion. The memory of that night was not 
conducive to free speech. But after heating and cooling 
many times with varying degrees of discomfort and wishing 
himself on a desert island far from human entanglements, 
Archy took the plunge. 

“I have come to say good-bye, sir,” he announced, 
bracing himself fearfully. 

“ Good-bye ? ” cried Mr. Carmichael in amazement. 
“ But the session doesn’t open for some little time yet, I 
think.” 

The blood came to Archy’s face, but his answer was 
ready. 

“ There are one or two things I want to do before set- 
tling down to the winter’s work,” he explained, “ and I 
thought it best to get them over.” 

“ An excellent plan to do at once what must be done,” 
responded Mr. Carmichael. “ It’s been the rule of all the 
successful men I’ve ever known. But you’re taking us by 
surprise, are you not ? How do your father and mother 
like your flight, especially your mother ? ” 

“ They don’t know yet,” replied Archy. 

Mr. Carmichael laid his single arm on the table, and 
looked searchingly at his visitor. 

“You don’t mean to say you have arranged to go away 
without telling them ? ” he said. “ That sounds like a 
hasty, ill-considered decision, Archy.” 

“ It was rather quickly made,” owned Archy, with a 
burning face. 

“ Then unless there’s urgent cause you’ll just delay your 
departure a while,” said Mr. Carmichael. “ Give your 
mother a few days more of your company. As the Psalm- 
ist says, I have been young and now am old, and one of the 
things I have learned is that when you lose your mother 
she cannot be restored to you. Therefore, unless the rea- 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 149 

son is urgent you’ll defer your going for the sake of her 
whose life is your life. May I ask if you really must go ? ” 

Archy’s pulses were beating madly. He knew he looked 
foolish, knew also that the minister read him like a book in 
large type. But he was committed. Pride and vanity urged 
him on, and pride and vanity are irresistible motive powers. 

“Yes,” he answered in a strained voice; “it is urgent. 
I must go.” 

Mr. Carmichael rose slowly and rang the bell. 

“We’ll have coffee on the head of this,” he remarked; 
and when it was brought : “ Few things exhilarate the inner 
man like coffee. ‘Give a man wine to forget his sorrow,’ 
says the proverb. I say give a man coffee to conquer his 
sorrow, because to conquer is better than to forget. My 
wife understands me so well that when I’m a little out of 
heart she simply says ‘ you need brightening,’ and brings me 
coffee. Then on the turn of the wheel comes the doctor, 
who cries out, ‘ Coffee again ? Dear me, dear me. Don’t 
you know that coffee is rank poison to the nerves ? ’ ‘Yet, 
my dear doctor,’ I reply, ‘ I’ve seen armies win victories on 
it. Pray join me in a cup,’ and he ends by telling me cof- 
fee’s a wonderful stimulant and that the secret of making it 
good is known at the manse. So we sit down and com- 
pose our differences. Now,” taking a sip, “ we can talk.” 

Archy in truth found the coffee very good, but somehow 
it did not give him fluency of speech. Therefore it fell to 
Mr. Carmichael to make conversation, and, having a pro- 
found and peculiar knowledge of men, he circled adroitly 
for the point he desired to reach. So Archy was going at 
once ? The news came unexpectedly, yet it was, perhaps, 
not surprising that youth should long for the eager and busy 
city. Though Aberfourie had its merits, — great and solid 
merits, too — he, Mr. Carmichael, would not pretend that 
gaiety was its chief virtue. The spirit of youth prospered 


ISO THE ETERNAL QUEST 

in the bustle and whirl of life, and heaven forbid it should 
be denied its natural fare. 

“ It’s a fine thing,” said the minister, “ to have one’s life 
running on in endless perspective, like an open road into a 
fairy country. That enchanted view is worth all the pos- 
sessions by the wayside. Yet some hurry on who presently 
would fain return. Think of that sometimes, and don’t 
forget that one of these days I’ll be descending the pulpit 
stairs for the last time. You know who’s expected to as- 
cend them.” 

“ I’m afraid, sir, that those who fancy they know are 
likely to be disappointed,” returned Archy, trying to laugh 
and nearly choking. 

“ Disappointed ? ” cried Mr. Carmichael — disappointed ? 
You don’t mean to say you are going to forsake us ?” 

Archy was whirling in chaos, yet in spite of the turmoil 
one point remained clear, and to that he stuck almost fran- 
tically. 

“ I have been thinking lately, sir, I should be able to 
work most successfully among strangers,” he blurted. 

“ Why ? ” demanded Mr. Carmichael. 

“ Oh, it would be difficult to explain why,” said Archy. 
“ But the feeling is on me.” 

“ Many feelings are on us in our youth which go long 
ere we reach middle age,” rejoined Mr. Carmichael. “ I’m 
a man who has been about the world a little, and I tell you, 
my dear Archy, multitudes sail for El Dorado who never 
make port. A minister may be as useful working quietly 
among his own people as in the biggest Babylon on earth.” 

“ You were not always of that opinion, sir,” was the 
laughing response. 

“Which is to say I was once young and romantic,” re- 
joined Mr. Carmichael. “ Ah, my dear Archy, if in life,, 
as in science, we had the wit to heed the voice of experi- 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 151 

ence, what disappointments and vexations we should be 
spared. In the domain of learning we willingly accept the 
guidance of those who went before. In the really vital 
things of life, on the other hand, each man insists on start- 
ing as if he were Adam fresh created over again, with 
everything to find out for himself. When the astronomer 
tells you that the earth whirls about the sun, and the physi- 
cian that the heart pumps the blood through your arteries, 
you take their word for it ; but when the elder of three 
score and ten presents a crumb of practical wisdom, you 
reject it with scorn, saying you will find out the sweet from 
the bitter for yourself. Now, I put it to you as a logician, 
is not that a trifle illogical ? ” 

“ Human nature, I suppose,” said Archy, with a forced 
smile. 

“ Poor old human nature,” sighed Mr. Carmichael, “ the 
scapegoat of us all. If we are wise, the virtue is all in our- 
selves ; if we are foolish, the fault is in human nature. I 
am not going to put in any plea on behalf of the accused. 
I think we owe somebody a grudge for making human na- 
ture what it unfortunately is. At the same time I think it 
is a deal better than we are disposed to admit. For I have 
found surprising virtues in human nature. It turns out 
heroes occasionally, and I am particularly proud to have 
known some of them. In respect to nearer matters it 
occurs to me that something is turning a young friend of 
mine from a purpose which gave us all great pleasure.” 

Archy gulped a mouthful of coffee to evade the minister’s 
eye. 

“ The fact is,” he said, flinging out his arms, “ things 
have taken a turn lately which convinces me I’d be better 
away ; and if better away now, better away forever.” 

He rose, shaking with excitement, and leaned against a 
bookcase. 


152 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“Would it be impertinent to ask what the things are ? ’’ 
asked Mr. Carmichael. 

“ You could ask me no question that would be imper- 
tinent, sir,’* replied Archy. “ But indeed in this case there 
is no need to ask, for you know.” 

“ You are making my position very difficult, Archy,” 
said Mr. Carmichael plaintively. 

“I did not come to do that, sir,” Archy assured him 
quickly ; “ but to bid you good-bye and to thank you for 
all your kindness and help. Whatever comes, I shall never 
have any but grateful thoughts of you.” 

Mr. Carmichael made no reply, but looked at Archy as 
if to say “ Oh, man, why do you say that ? ” Then he 
held out his hand, pathetic in its singleness, and Archy 
gripped and wrung it. 

“ I will go now, sir,” he said, glad of an excuse for 
escaping. “ I must not interrupt you longer.” 

“ You must not go,” returned Mr. Carmichael unsteadily. 
“ Sit down,” and Archy obeyed. 

For a little there was silence j then Mr. Carmichael said, 
as if the words were wrung from him in anguish : 

“You are turning your back on Aberfourie, and — and 
you blame me.” 

“ Blame you, sir ? ” Archy cried in protest. 

“ In your heart,” returned Mr. Carmichael. “ In your 
heart you blame me. It’s only natural ; and yet,” he 
went on with sudden warmth, “ you would be doing me 
an injustice. I tell you that frankly. The wind bloweth 
where it listeth ; so erratically goes a young girl’s affection. 
My daughter’s heart is not in my keeping. Until you 
startled me on the road that night I had no idea how 
things stood.” 

Archy squirmed as if his chair were barbed. 

“ I was wrong, sir,” he answered chokingly. “ But I 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 153 

will not hide from you I have ever since been in a kind of 
despair. I got, of course, what was right. Because Miss 
Carmichael treated me as a friend I had the presumption 
of a fool. I am very properly punished. But, sir, I 
implore you not to imagine that because I dreamed false 
dreams I go away cherishing ill will. From my heart I 
tell you Miss Carmichael can never have more happiness 
or better fortune than I wish her.” 

“ Of course not,” said the agonised father — “ of course 
not.” 

“ No,” pursued Archy, finding a little more breath, “ nor 
yet the man who is destined ” 

“ Destined ? ” struck in Mr. Carmichael. “ What do 
you mean, Archy ? ” 

“ Oh, T am a fool, sir, but not quite blind,” was the 
reply. “What I aspired to is for another, well known to 
us both. That’s none of my business, and I have no right 
whatever to complain. But I’d be better away — perma- 
nently.” 

A look of entreaty came into Mr. Carmichael’s face. 

“You’ll reconsider that decision, Archy ? ” he pleaded. 

“ Why, sir,” rejoined Archy, unconsciously getting to 
his feet, “ I could never go in or out, never walk up the 
road, never turn without being reminded of the past.” 

He stopped, discovered he was standing, and relapsed 
feebly into his chair. 

“ It’s best to go,” he added, “ and I dare say,” laughing 
tragically, “ there are sinners to convert elsewhere.” 

“ If you go away with the idea of not returning,” said 
Mr. Carmichael, “ I for one should never forgive myself. 
Think, too, of the disappointment of your father and 
mother ; and I know it would break my daughter’s heart 
if she thought she had brought trouble into your life.” 

“ You must not say that,” cried Archy, touched in his 


154 the eternal QUEST 

vulnerable spot. “ Miss Carmichael is in no way respon- 
sible. She cannot help being good and beautiful. As for 
my mother, she will be reconciled to my judgment.” 

“ Not without hating my daughter,” was the response. 

Archy sprang up again, protesting vehemently. 

“ No, no,” he said. “ I will not listen to you saying 
that. It’s impossible, quite impossible.” 

“Just impossible enough to be true, Archy,” persisted 
the minister. 

Archy was repudiating the idea with increased fervour 
when there arose a noise of rustling and murmuring out- 
side. The next moment, in bounded Coleena, with 
Marjorie at her heels. 


CHAPTER IX 


About the precise manner of his retreat from the manse 
Archie knew almost as little as about the flight from 
Carndhu. But as his affrighted and dispersed wits by de- 
grees returned, one thing became painfully clear: if he was 
to keep his good name for sanity and respectability he must 
quit Aberfourie forthwith. It would be impossible to en- 
dure many meetings such as he had had that day without 
breaking out, and from that scandal he shrank. 

“ It must be bolt, and at once,” he said to himself with 
a bitter little laugh, “ and all for a piece of bewitchment in 
petticoats ! ” 

In the midst of these thoughts he came upon Peter, the 
gardener, and Tom Crerar, the watchman, in animated 
colloquy by the wayside. On seeing him they shouted 
greetings with the cordiality and more than the familiarity 
of brothers. 

“ Speak of the devil,” said Peter blandly. 

“ Ay, weVe just been talkin’ of you,” explained Tom. 

“ He’s been telling me of the fine pipeful you gave him 
last night,” said Peter; “at black midnight, by all ac- 
counts. When I was young we didna stay so late with the 
lasses.” 

“I will not have my words misrepresented,” cried Tom, 
clattering his wooden leg. “ I said two good pipefuls.” 

“I had forgotten,” rejoined Peter. “Ye see. I’d have 
been content with one.” 

Luckily Archy was able to give practical effect to the 
hint. When his pipe was well alight Peter remarked, as it 
were casually : 

“ Man, there’s great to do up by,” 

*55 


156 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

He jerked his thumb at Tigh-an-Eas and looked know- 
ingly at Archy. 

“ Indeed,” was Archy’s response, made with fine in- 
difference. 

‘‘ Ay, faith is there,” said Peter, giving the bowl of his pipe 
a clap on his palm. “ I had half a suspeecion the milleenum 
was maybe on us unawares. The general just puts a spunk 
to his pipe in the morning and goes as canty’s a kitchin 
chimney all day, except when he stops ceevilly to get my 
opinion on this or that, or maybe crack a joke. I give ye 
my word he hasna used an oath in my bearin’ for two days, 
and ye know in ordinar circumstances profanity’s fair 
medicine to him. He’s been kenned afore now to use 
language reekin’ o’ brimstone for half an hour at a stretch 
— and the minister listenin’, that’s the fun of it. To be 
sure that was when he had gout, the result of early pliskies 
in hot climates. There’s no gout the now, and what’s 
more,” Peter continued, warming to his subject, “ what’s 
more, he’s got fine and free with the drink — it’s just turn 
the spigot and help yerself.” 

“ And I suppose there’s a deal o’ thirst about,” said Tom 
enviously. 

“ When the quality asks ye to drink, it’s only manners 
to be dry,” retorted Peter. 

He paused, chuckling. 

“ Am saying,” he remarked the next moment, turning to 
Archy, “ am saying, how is it you’re letting that lassie slip 
through yer fingers ? ” 

“ Lassie ? ” echoed Archy, reddening perceptibly. 

Peter slipped his leg. 

“ Man, man,” he cried, “ it’s a grand thing to be inni- 
cent ; but it’s a big mistake to be blate. If I was young 
and the banker’s son. I’d let them see.” 

“Ye were aye an enterprisin’ man wi* the women, 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 157 

Peter,” put in Tom. “ How many's this ye've hed on yer 
own hook ? Four ? '' 

“Oh, just three,'' returned Peter modestly. 

“Three, and the third gettin' far through,'' said Tom. 
“ Ye'll be beginnin' to look out again.'' 

“ I'll not be askin' your help, thenkee, when I do,'' 
smiled Peter. 

“ Oh, yer good for three more,'' said Tom, with a crit- 
ical glance. “You're the boy to get through the wives. 
That's what comes o' stayin' at home and keepin' on yer 
legs.” 

He thrust out his wooden shank in testimony of his own 
disadvantage in dealing with a capricious sex. Peter looked 
down at it, pityingly, but not ill pleased. 

“ It stands to reason,'' he remarked, “ a woman would 
be shy o' havin' bits of wood where she expected a man. 
Not,'' he added soothingly, “but what's left of you is good 
sound stuff, Tom — and there's a certain savin' too in a 
wooden leg — half the ordinar cost in boots, something doot- 
less too in meat, and a great deal in drink. Forby, what- 
ever comes to the rest of you, you're never without a sober 
leg. Oh, there's a clear advantage in timber. And then 
there's the honour, Tom, and the glory in your case. The 
general was tellin' me one ^y there's not a leg or an arm 
whippit off in battle or an eye knocked out but the war 
office in London keeps an account of it ; so when you're 
dead and gone there's yer record. Abune a', think of the 
time ye must have had wi' the lasses. They canna hold 
out against the red coat.'' 

“ I'll no deny I've had my fling like the rest,'' said Tom, 
feeling that Peter should not have all the credit. 

“ And yer fit enough yet,'' pursued Peter encouragingly — 
“fit enough if there was just another chance. Ye've only 
to put on yer medals yet to have the women dancin' about 


158 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

ye. The petticoat’s clean gone on the sodger. Ye should 
hear them up by about Mr. Ivor.” 

He glanced, smirking, at Archy. 

“ Well,” said that unhappy youth abruptly, “ I must 
be off; and by the way, as Pm leaving for Edinburgh, I’ll 
bid you both good-bye.” 

“ Leavin’ for Edinbury ? ” said Peter, ignoring the out- 
stretched hand. “ Not runnin’ away ? ” 

“ I hope not,” responded Archy, feeling like a coward 
caught in the act. 

“ I’m an older man nor you,” Peter said impressively, 
“ and I have this advice to give — never run away from the 
lasses ; they’ll just despise ye if ye do. Man, when they’re 
nestiest they’re fainest — swearin’ they’ll never give in, and 
just ready to capeetulate, as the general says. Am I not 
right, Tom ? ” 

“ Perfectly,” answered Tom with alacrity — “ perfectly. 
A woman’s often like a besieged fortress, holdin’ out for 
the sake o’ appearances, when a’ the time she’s itch in’ to 
yield.” 

Peter nodded his head. 

“ That’s good doctrine,” he said emphatically. 

“Ye’ve got to deliver an assault,” Tom went on, thus 
encouraged, “ and if ye only press hard enough, ye may de- 
pend on what our old colonel used to call unconditional 
surrender.” 

“ Man, that’s well put,” cried Peter. “ Unconditional 
surrender ! That’s it exactly. But if you was to run 
away, Tom ? ” 

“ Then neither woman nor fortress would care that for 
you,” and Tom snapped his fingers. 

“There you are,” remarked Peter, turning to Archy. 
“And the lassie’s worth fightin’ for,” he went on, his 
head cocked at a rakish angle, and a grin of profound 


159 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

intelligence on his face. ‘‘ I was looking at her no longer 
ago than this very forenoon, when she was out among the 
flowers with our young ladies, and Miss Coleena was 
caperin’ as her way is — now there’s a tickler of hearts, or 
I’m no judge — and says I to myself, looking at the min- 
ister’s daughter, ‘ My dear, yer a plague, no doot, likewise 
yer a prize ; and if I was young and rich and good-lookin’,’ 
I said all this in my own mind, ‘ I’d be for riskin’ the 
plague for sake of the prize. As a general thing wi’ the 
lasses, them that’s good’s not too bonny, and them that’s 
bonny’s not too good ; but you’re both.’ That’s what I 
thought to myself. And if them that’s on the spot would 
only sail in ” 

“ And capture the prize,” interpolated Tom. 

“And capture the prize,” said Peter. “Ye’ve got a 
gift o’ eloquence, Tom, that would do credit to the pulpit. 
If only them that’s on the spot would sail in, there might 
be weddin’s quicker nor some think.” 

“And christenings,” added Tom. 

“Not so fast, Tom,” rejoined Peter — “not so fast. It 
doesn’t do to gallop In them things. With the blessin’ o’ 
heaven the christenings would come in their order; but 
weddin’s first, if you please. Suppose, then, that them 
that’s on the spot made up their minds to sail in, think of 
the pull over them that’s thousands of miles away ! ” 

“ You speak in riddles,” Archy laughed. 

“ Oh, the riddles is not that deep but the wit of man can 
get at them,” retorted Peter. “ And I come back to my 
oreeginal advice, never you run away from the lasses.” 

“ Thank you,” responded Archy, feeling hot about the gills. 
“ Now, I must be off.” And again he held out his hand. 

“ You’ll soon be at the preaching ? ” said Peter, again 
ignoring it. 

“Very soon, I hope,” Archy replied. 


i6o THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ And of course ye’ll want a wife,” said Peter. 

‘‘What for?” asked Tom absently, his mind being on 
gushing spigots. 

“ To keep him in about,” answered Peter. “ There’s a 
difference atween a sodger and a preacher, Tom. Don’t 
forget that.” 

“ They’re generally supposed to have much in common,” 
said Archy. 

“ Heaps o’ things is supposed,” returned Peter. “ It’s 
supposed that young folk is generally happy and old folk 
generally wise. Ye know yourself if that’s true. As 
touchin’ red coats and black, there’s this distinction, that 
the red coat is free to roam, but the black coat must have 
no trottings with the scarlet woman, which is to say that a 
young well-set-up minister’s the better of a henroost of his 
own. Ye catch my meanin’ ? ” 

“As to the gift o* preachin’,” put in Tom, who was at 
leisure and in a mood for talk. 

“Tuts,” cried Peter impatiently, “that’s nothing. Just 
the gift o’ the gab — a common enough thing. The 
coortin’s of more consequence than the preachin’ ” 

Archy’s hand was out once more. 

“ Yer for goin’, then,” said Peter, taking it very reluc- 
tantly. “Well, I wish ye luck, and ye’ll mind what I say ? ” 

“I’ll try,” replied Archy, shaking Tom’s hand in turn. 

“ It’s my opinion,” remarked Peter, gazing after him — 
“ it’s my opinion yer in a prickly shirt this minute, my man, 
and the jaggin’ will make ye dance, too.” 

“ What’s the splore now ? ” queried Tom. 

“The old thing, Tom,” announced Peter. “The old 
thing. A man and a maid, the thing that Solomon him- 
self could not make out. Lord ! What the sons of Adam 
suffer for women.” 

And he settled to tell of his discovery. 


CHAPTER X 


Archy made the rest of his way home in a state of in- 
cipient combustion. Not only was he humiliated, but the 
story of his humiliation was blown abroad ; and for divers 
reasons it is not pleasant to find one’s tenderest secret on 
the ribald tongues of gossips and scandalmongers. His 
mother, too, added to his turmoil; for Mrs. Carmichael, 
combining ministrations to the sick and afternoon tea at 
Bank House, had innocently startled her with news of his 
sudden decision to leave home. Pondering the matter by 
herself Mrs. Buchanan was convinced that in some 
mysterious way the wiles of the wicked were encompassing 
her darling, and with motherly solicitude set herself to con- 
found them. But when she questioned him Archy was first 
evasive and then outright obdurate, as darlings with sprout- 
ing down on their cheeks are apt to be when other people’s 
daughters are concerned. He told her she was fretting her- 
self for nothing, rallied her on delaying him in the pursuit 
of knowledge, assured her his plans were veritable essence of 
wisdom, and for the rest took his own way, which was to 
begin packing at once. 

Thereupon Mrs. Buchanan had recourse to sal volatile 
and an interview with her husband. She found him 
engrossed in the composition of a letter to head office, and 
letters to head office have to be composed with extreme 
care if one is to escape a wigging from superior minor 
clerks in secretaries’ departments. The moment was hardly 
propitious. 

“ Well, Catherine,” he said, looking up not without hint 
of a frown, “ what is it now ” 

i6i 


i 62 the eternal quest 

With an absent, agitated manner she took a chair and 
began to state her troubles. Mr. Buchanan, laying down 
his pen, looked at her with the sphinx face of the financier, 
listening as to an importunate suitor for a loan. By his 
bank training, now a potent second nature, he instinctively 
repressed all feeling of humanity during business hours. In 
circulars received periodically from head office, the 
apocalyptic beast of country agents and managers, he 
was warned that sentiment involves bad debts, and he 
knew that bad debts over a certain ungenerous amount 
end in summary retirement — minus a pension. Therefore 
he took the tales of all who came to him seeking help or 
comfort with the prudent incredulity which is the banker’s 
first line of defence. Through long custom he could not 
help regarding the very wife of his bosom as a suspect 
soliciting favours which it was his duty to refuse. 

“Well,” he remarked when she came to a pause and 
looked for guidance, “I can’t give my attention to such 
matters during business hours. From ten to three I’m 
here to look after the bank’s interests. I thought you 
knew that, Catherine.” 

“ I did, dear, but Archy’s somehow troubling me more 
than I can tell.” 

“ Perhaps you’re troubling yourself, Catherine. In any 
case I’m too busy to be interrupted now. After hours 
we’ll see what he has to say for himself.” 

With that he resumed the composition of the letter to 
head office, his wife withdrawing with a sigh, like a baffled 
applicant for an overdraft. The bank door shut, and, the 
staff of one man and two boys gone, he sent for Archy. 

“ What’s this I hear of you ? ” he demanded magisteri- 
ally. “ Running away to Edinburgh before there’s any 
necessity to go. Are you tired of us } ” 

Smiling as at a timely jest, Archy explained his reasons 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 163 

for going with a simplicity and filial deference that dis- 
armed opposition. None the less he watched craftily for 
any indication that his father had wind of the real cause. 
So far as he could divine a blessed ignorance prevailed. 
Marjorie’s name was not once mentioned, nor so much as 
an oblique allusion to it made. In the moment of victory 
there was just one disquieting question. 

“ Why,” asked his father, “ were we left to learn from 
others you had to go so soon ? ” 

“ It was only this morning in thinking over things I 
found it would be best to go at once,” answered Archy 
with the expression of consummate innocence he had pre- 
served throughout. “ Then as I happened to be at Tigh- 
an-Eas congratulating them about Ivor, I took the chance 
of saying good-bye. In passing the manse I looked in for 
the same purpose. Mrs. Carmichael was just coming out, 
and told mother before I could get home. You see it all 
came about very simply.” 

His father could not deny it appeared simple and natural. 
“ Only,” he added, “ it has upset your mother.” 

“ Oh, well,” responded Archy, with a fine faith in 
motherhood, “ she’ll understand, since it’s for the best.” 

In saying it was for the best he was perfectly sincere, a 
fact that in some measure salved a conscience with which, 
unfortunately, it became necessary for the time being to 
take liberties. Ample amends should be made on the first 
opportunity for repentance. 

“ It seems all right, Catherine,” the banker reported to 
his wife half an hour later. 

“ Then, dear, you don’t think there really is anything 
wrong ? ” said Mrs. Buchanan. 

The banker assumed his most judicial look. 

“ If motives could be examined like bank securities, I 
could answer with certainty,” he returned ; “ but I have no 


i 64 the eternal QUEST 

reason to suppose there is anything wrong ; no, I have no 
evidence which would lead me to such a conclusion. I 
dare say that if the truth were known he is longing for the 
excitements and opportunities of city life again, and in 
that I do not know that I can blame him ; no, I feel that I 
can’t.” 

Mrs. Buchanan’s face expressed a mild surprise. 

“ We mustn’t be astonished,” the banker went on, with 
the air of expounding a law of nature — “ we mustn’t be 
astonished if youth beats its wings against cage-bars. 
Archy’s years are the years for adventure, for seeing life 
and conquering it. I wish I had given my own ambition 
freer scope in early days. But I wanted to stay at home 
and marry you, Catherine.” 

“ Like a fool, dear,” remarked Mrs. Buchanan, the 
slightest suspicion of pique in her voice. 

“ I will not say that, Catherine,” he rejoined — “ most 
certainly I will not say that. In six broad counties I could 
not have got a better wife. But I might have fought and 
won a place elsewhere, and married you all the same.” 

“ Oh, many people envy us our position,” returned Mrs. 
Buchanan, whose social ambition was easy. 

“ Doubtless there are worse things in life than two 
hundred pounds a year and frequent snubbings from asses 
at head office, who reserve to themselves the rights and 
pleasures of mismanagement,” her husband admitted. 
“ But it’s a trying art, Catherine, this keeping up of ap- 
pearances. Just think how I eke and scrape. To out- 
siders I’m the banker, in reality. I’m just a sort of clerkly 
figurehead or dummy for head office staff to shy things at. 
I can’t even overdraw my own account a ten-pound note 
but down comes a letter drawing my attention to the irregu- 
larity — that’s their confounded word — or maybe an in- 
spector steps in to test my honesty and deliver little 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 165 

lectures on the principles of banking. With my left hand, 
so to speak, Pm an insurance agent, a coal merchant, a 
farmer, and a petty factor, and, for all I can do, the coffers 
never fill. Pd be a rag-man if it paid. No, I shouldn’t 
be sorry if Archy went away and stayed away, provided he 
made up his mind to get on. For what’s Aberfourie, 
Catherine ? A place to be avoided by any man who has 
sufficient confidence in himself to strike out elsewhere.” 

“ The general and Mr. Carmichael have come back to 
it,” said Mrs. Buchanan. 

“ Oh, it’s perhaps good enough to come back to,” was 
the rejoinder. “ Carmichael returned partly from necessity, 
partly from the sentiment which makes old men return to 
the scenes of their youth. The general returned for the 
same reasons. Aberfourie and places like it are just 
asylums for the superannuated, the timorous, and the in- 
competent. That’s my conviction after forty years of 
business experience. Great heavens, Catherine, under the 
right conditions I might be a millionaire to-day.” 

He rose, shaking out grisled locks angrily. 

“ Pm sorry to hear you talking like that, dear,” said his 
wife gently. 

“ Sorry ” he repeated. “ I don’t see why you should 
be sorry, Catherine. It’s not the first time I’ve thought of 
it all, nor the second, nor the fiftieth. And I tell you that 
instead of being sorry I should be glad to see Archy strik- 
ing out for himself — yes, glad — and this very night I’ll pray 
he may.” 

And he kept his word, knowing not what he asked. 



Book III 


CHAPTER I 

Pride goeth before a fall. When it entered his breast, 
poisoning the springs of nobility, Archy exulted fiercely in 
the plan of flying off. “To shake the dust off your feet 
as a testimony against them would be an exquisite revenge,” 
whispered the baleful counsellor, treacherously preparing a 
double distilled cup of gall against the hour of departure. 
And at the appointed time, willy-nilly, he had to drink and 
suffer. For if it were pain to stay, it was pure anguish to 
go- 

With his friends he affected laughter and high hope, 
dwelling with finely simulated gaiety on the rosy future. 
But once free to indulge his real humour he lapsed sud- 
denly into a corner of the railway carriage, his hat pulled 
over his eyes, his chin on his breast, a furnace of resent- 
ment and self-anger. Why was he running away thus.? 
Because he was the quintessence of an ass. None need 
tell him that ; the self-knowledge was burned upon brain 
and heart. Ruminating on the incredibleness of his folly 
he began to perceive why the angels fell and the divine 
passion becomes a fiery torture. Ancient wisdom, too, 
stirred the fire with an apophthegm : “ Pride breweth a 
brew of vinegar and aloes to quench the thirst of fools.” 
And the draught, as the poor fool was proving, leaves an 
exceeding bitterness in the mouth. 

167 


i68 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

Roused from his tragic reverie by the rush of a passing 
train, he glanced out upon the southern express thundering 
to the north he was in such haste to leave. Like a home- 
sick bird his heart turned and flew back. Had that magic 
organ a moment of prescience? Did it by some undis- 
covered faculty divine what was to be that day at Aber- 
fourie ? Prevision in the blood ? The chemist smiles a 
bland negative ; possibly the psychic investigator would no 
less confidently smile an affirmative. In any case, had 
Archy returned in body as in spirit and looked into the 
Aberfourie post office he would have found a group of 
official heads clustered over two travel-stained packets 
bearing a heathen postmark which they knew not. But 
the writing they knew, and it filled them with an itching 
curiosity. 

“ One for Tigh-an-Eas and one for the manse,’* quoth 
the chief head. “ There’ll be gladness in Israel this day, 
I’m thinking. Ye’ll observe there’s no sign of death in 
the hand-write. It’s as firm as a giant’s. I did not know 
Ivor was carrying on with the minister’s daughter.” 

The confession of ignorance brought a chuckle from 
Hamish, the postman, who stood by awaiting his load. 
It will be remembered that Peter, the gardener, adding 
a sound working knowledge of man to an uncanny knowl- 
edge of woman, had penetrated the mystery of Ivor’s love 
affair. Archy’s he found as plain as a church steeple or 
an inn door. It will further be remembered that Peter 
imparted his discovery in absolute confidence to Tom 
Crerar, the watchman, and Tom, likewise in absolute con- 
fidence, passed it on to Hamish, the postman, well know- 
ing that common newsman would not fail in his oflice. 
That the secrets thus published had missed Hamish’s 
superiors and colleagues was not the fault of the talebearer. 
Now that his opportunity came, he grasped it eagerly. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 169 

The relations of Ivor and Archy were trenchantly described, 
and Marjorie’s position still more trenchantly imagined. 

“ A woman must, of course, have two strings to her 
bow,” said one. 

“ Exackly,” returned Hamish. “ And one of them ran 
away this very day, head down like a plucked goose. Peter 
warned him he’d never win in that way ; but he’s off, and 
now comes this from India as a kind o’ kick ahint.” 

Archy was pitied with that spice of relish in other’s 
misfortunes which is the chief sign of intelligence in man. 
The probable cause of his trouble was discussed, with 
proper reflections on the fickle nature and constitution of 
woman, be she peer’s or parson’s daughter. Finally, as 
people would have the ill grace to be impatient for their 
letters, Marjorie’s packet was dropped into Hamish’s bag. 

Meanwhile, Marjorie was loitering, not by chance, at 
the manse gate. Day by day she contrived to be there 
at post-time, because her yearning for an authentic message, 
were it only one line direct from himself^ was not to be 
repressed. Why was he not writing ? Save for the brief 
note scribbled on his way to the front, he had not sent her 
a word from India. If only he knew the weary ache of 
waiting, the thrill of the fearful hope when post-time came, 
the sinking of the spirit when it passed, bringing nothing, 
he could write in spite of wounds and weakness. Yet she 
would not blame him, even in thought. Rather would she 
kiss (if she was alone) the crumpled sheet on which he 
wrote, as in letters of fire, the assurance that made her 
tingle giddily. 

She grew wistfully pale with waiting. Flora and Coleena 
marked and suspected ; her father marked and knew. Often 
he looked at her furtively, recalling that scene on the sum- 
mer night which made his old heart throb with youth, and 
he mused long and deeply, father as he was, on the wonder 


lyo THE ETERNAL QUEST 

of a maiden’s love. Being himself a lover, he was greatly 
disquieted. Was he right in allowing this child of his 
affection, so mystically grown into lovely womanhood, to 
cherish a fatuous passion ? To be sure, where her heart 
was, there was his also. That was the point of agony. 
But he knew what she didn’t know. Was it wise to let 
her dwell blissfully in a fool’s paradise, only to be awakened 
to sudden misery .? Perhaps he was too anxious. As he 
had ever been in barrack and on battlefield, so was he in 
his own house, sensitively afraid of failing in his duty. In 
courage and knowledge a man among men, he had yet the 
impressible simplicity of a child, and now he was held by 
the heart-strings. 

The general, who sometimes liked to put truth in the 
trappings of paradox, had said : “ Carmichael has at once 
the hardest and the softest heart in the army.” It was true 
to the finest shade of truth. Where affection did not 
hinder, the chaplain could dare or sacrifice anything ruth- 
lessly, as he had proved ; where affection held back, he was 
as a woman that shrinks and falters at the sight of blood. 
Now he had to answer to himself the crucial question, was 
he weakly permitting the elements of tragedy to be mixed 
under his very eyes to the undoing of one whose well-being 
was more than life itself? For he knew that if innocent, 
heart-whole love is an effluence of the divine, the blighting 
of it is deadlier than the poison of asps. Again and again 
he was on the point of seeking his wife’s counsel, but 
something ever restrained him ; perhaps it was delicacy, 
perhaps a dim lingering faith that Fate might even yet be- 
friend. So he, too, waited and watched, holding his peace. 

From afar Marjorie spied Hamish, and her heart began 
to beat its daily tattoo. When he drew near holding up 
a letter, the tattoo became a dizzying, choking flutter. 
She received the packet, however, with a steady hand 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 17 1 

and that smile for which half the bachelors in Aberfourie 
would have risked their salvation. But no sooner was 
Hamish's back turned than a kind of palpitating terror 
seized her. She trembled violently, her eyes were dimmed 
as by a mist, the breath seemed frozen in her breast. 
She durst not open the letter where there was risk of 
being seen, for she could not trust herself to be rational. 
So slipping unperceived into the house, she flew upstairs 
to her own room, bolted the door, and sank panting on 
her bed. A moment she paused to recover herself, then 
with feverish, shaky fingers ripped the envelope, unfolded 
the thin sheet of foreign note-paper, and began to read, 
thought and being suspended. As she read on her eyes 
began to shine, and a glowing radiance of joy crimsoned 
her face. She rose, made a turn of the room, sat down 
and read again and yet again. Finally, with a passion 
of which she was not in the least aware, she pressed the 
letter to her lips. 

‘‘ Oh, it is delicious to be loved,” she told herself in a 
heavy ecstasy — “ delicious, delicious.” 

Perhaps a woman cannot be perfectly happy without 
weeping. Glancing in the mirror presently, Majorie saw 
with astonishment that her face was wet. 

“ Dearie me,” she thought, seizing a sponge, “ they’ll 
know Pve been crying,” and began to dab and wipe. But 
she stopped to read again, and that brought more tears. She 
brushed them away, defending herself to herself by asking 
who wouldn’t cry over such happiness. She held up the 
letter as proof and justification. There it was written with 
his own hand that he loved her : that was the precious word. 
War and change and distance did not make him forget. 

In every pause of the strife he was thinking of her, 
dwelling on her image, trying to imagine what she was 
about. Oh, it was delicious to be loved. 


172 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

All at once she gave a little gasp, half of gladness, half 
of fear. In the first delirium of her joy she had overlooked 
one important sentence which suddenly leaped out. 

“You have saved my life, darling, and I take that to be 
a good omen.” 

Saved his life, she thought, with a quiver of dread. “ I 
wish I were beside you to render the homage and the 
gratitude I feel.” 

Oh, the fond foolish boy. The homage and gratitude 
were on her side. She read on avidly, like one who is 
not satisfied with performing a sweet task once. He carried 
her miniature in a locket; for safety and sanctity that locket 
was kept in his breast, and thus turned aside the bullet 
which must otherwise have slain him. She shivered at the 
thought of death so narrowly escaped. If she lost him ! 
The bare idea brought an instant blackness, and to dispel 
it she had once more to go over the whole story. Was 
ever a love in all the world like hers ? Was ever woman 
so blessed before ? The lovers* providence has ordained 
that Eve’s first raptures shall in turn be the portion of each 
of Eve’s daughters. 

She lay back in a chair holding the open letter, in a 
trance of passionate delight. She did not pretend to 
understand the mysterious creature man, who could so 
love and so fight at the same time, who made light of 
wounds and desired her prayers to get another crack at the 
enemy. Perhaps he is so brave because he loves, whispered 
her heart, and went skipping and leaping. Would that she 
could go out to him to show how she could endure for 
his sake, or since that was impossible that there was some 
one to whom she could tell her happiness. She longed 
to impart it, exult in it, and she durst not speak a word of 
it to a soul. 

She may have sat ruminating in bliss for an hour, she 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 173 

may have sat for two hours (time was for once out of 
the reckoning), when she was awakened from her dream 
by the rustle of skirts and the rattling of her door-knob, 
followed by an impatient knocking. Whipping the letter 
into her pocket, she sprang to her feet, glanced into the 
mirror, gave her eyes a hurried rub, and opened the door, 
to find Coleena outside, breathless from running and 
glowing with gladness. 


CHAPTER II 


With the charming impetuosity of youth, the girls 
were instantly in each other’s arms. The embrace 
was ardent and inordinately long, and when they drew 
apart, one, at least, throbbed in a hot confusion. 

“ Why, dear, you have been crying ! ” exclaimed Coleena, 
surprise and alarm darkening the brightness of her counte- 
nance. “ Is anything wrong ? ” 

Marjorie moved back into the room, as if to gain time in 
answering. 

“ Nothing is wrong, dear,” she murmured. “ In fact,” 
she added, as with a desperate effort to recover courage, 
“ I am very, very happy.” 

“You didn’t look it a minute ago,” was the response. 
“ But there’s no accounting for tastes. Some folk cry 
from grief, and some from gladness. I’ve seen Flo 
running off her surplus happiness in a double stream of 
tears as if her heart were broken. I’m different. Instead 
of making me dissolve, happiness makes me want to step 
over Schiehallion, so to speak, or dance with the first 
living thing I meet, and do you know I feel exactly like 
that now ? ” 

At that she plucked a letter from her pocket, and thrust 
it into Marjorie’s hand. 

“ From Ivor,” she gasped gleefully. “ Read it.” 

As Marjorie read, Coleena watched, her eyes shining 
with excitement. 

“ Isn’t it splendid ? ” she cried, when Marjorie, unable 
to speak, looked up. “ I had just to come and let you 
see it at once. Flo wasn’t dressed, and you know all 
174 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 175 

the angels in heaven couldn’t induce Flo to show her 
face in the street if there was so much as a ribbon awry 
or a crinkle amiss in her hair. As for me, not giving 
a fig for crinkles or ribbons, here I am alone, and just as 
tossed as Fuzzy- Wuzzy of the besom head.” 

She shook her brown curls with the sportive disdain of 
Nature’s favourite. 

“ Aren’t you glad I came ? ” she demanded, finding 
Marjorie still silent. 

“ Yes, dear, very glad. It was good of you to come.” 

“ And the letter — isn’t it just like him ? ” 

The words were simple, but the tone was intense and 
eager. As there were generals before Agamemnon, so 
we know there were heroes before Ivor Malcolm. But 
Coleena would have denied the fact and Marjorie sup- 
ported the denial. If history told of any one braver, 
nobler than their idol, then history lied; that was all. 
In their hearts both adored, and he is more fortunate than 
Alexander who has such maiden adoration. 

“ Isn’t it exactly like him ? ” Coleena repeated raptur- 
ously. 

“ Exactly like him,” was the soft but thrilling reply. 

“ Laughs at his wounds,” Coleena went on, giving swing 
to her hero-worship ; “ hopes that all who love him will 
pray he may get another skite at the enemy — that’s slang, 
but it’s sound at bottom. When he starts out afresh, it’ll 
be awkward for somebody.” 

“ I congratulate you on having such a brother,” said 
Marjorie, trembling at thought of her own hypocrisy. A 
gleam of laughter lit up Coleena’s face. It was on the 
point of her tongue to say, “ And I congratulate you on 
having such a lover.” But the time was hardly ripe. 

“ Thank you,” she answered, with an impressive air of 
innocence. “You should see papa smoking. Some pray 


176 ' THE ETERNAL QUEST 

in trouble and some give thanks in happiness. Papa meets 
all kinds of fortune with tobacco. And he's at it to-day — 
as hard and grim as if he were taking a fortress. He al- 
ways pretends to be grim and gruff when he’s particularly 
well pleased. This morning, when I gave a little exhibi- 
tion of my skill in dancing — quite on scriptural lines, my 
dear — he told me for Heaven’s sake to stop making a fool 
of myself. So I just kissed him and went on, and he’s 
been good ever since. It’s hard to see him properly for 
smoke; but you’ve only to catch the glint of his eye to 
understand how happy he is.” 

“We are all happy, dear,” said Marjorie demurely. 

“Oh, you dear sweet little hypocrite,” cried Coleena, 
suddenly throwing her arms about Marjorie. Marjorie 
felt as if a flame were devouring her. She drew a deep 
breath, pretending to be amazed, and succeeded in looking 
guilty. 

“ Why should you say that to me ? ” she asked, in a sort 
of quivering pant. 

“ Wait, and I’ll tell you, dear,” was the response. “ That 
letter was a news-sheet for the whole household. This,” 
holding up a tiny slip of paper, “ was specially for me. 
It’s very, very private, and what do you think it says ? ” 

“ How should I know ? ” returned Marjorie, every pulse 
in her body beating the gallop. 

“You cannot even guess ? ” said Coleena provokingly. 

“ I never was good at guessing,” answered Marjorie, 
holding on desperately to the last shred of her self-control. 

“Well,” pursued Coleena, striking a theatrical attitude, 
partly in fun, partly to dissemble her own emotion, “ if 
you have smiles to give, prepare to give them now. 
Listen : 

“ ‘ My dear Col, — 

“ ‘ I remember with deep pleasure that Marjorie and 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 177 

you are fast friends. Be good to her if you would be 
good to me, for whoever loves me must love her also. 
I need say no more.’ 

There, you sweet lucky darling ! ” 

Marjorie’s whole being reeled as in delicious pain. 
To judge by her looks she might have been in the direst 
grief, and it certainly was with an effort she managed to 
whisper : 

“ Thank you, dear. It’s like you to be so good.” 

“ Good ? ” echoed Coleena, with a note of rebuke. 
“ Don’t you be absurd, and simply because ” 

She stopped abruptly, as if finding herself going too 
fast. 

“ Because what ? ” asked Marjorie, and held her breath. 

“ Oh, I mustn’t say it,” was the reply. ‘‘ I have no 
right to be impertinent.” 

“ I’ll be angry if you don’t say whatever you meant to 
say,” rejoined Marjorie, with sudden resolution. 

“ Well, then,” cried Coleena, “ I will, and it’s this : you 
I mustn’t be absurd simply because you — don’t be alarmed, 

‘ it’s coming plump out — you mustn’t be absurd simply 
because you happen to be in love. There, you have it.” 
She drew a quick breath and went on: “As for Ivor, he’s 
ithe luckiest fellow in the world, and I’ll tell him that, 
ll’ll also tell him he has set me the easiest task of my 
life, for indeed, dear, I love you almost as much as he 
does.” 

Upon that they must needs embrace with a vehemence 
which left them breathless and speechless. They sat down 
presently, arms entwined, murmuring as if to comfort each 
other in the depths of tribulation. Marjorie’s eyes filled 
and overflowed, and Coleena’s, despite her inveterate gaiety, 
filled and overflowed in sympathy. 

All at once Coleena jumped up and looked in a mirror. 


178 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ If we don’t stop this,” she said emphatically, “ people 
will think we’ve been losing brothers and sweethearts 
instead of proving them good and true. What a perfectly 
ridiculous pair we are ! ” 

‘‘ Perfectly ridiculous,” said Marjorie, with a confirma- 
tory sob. 

“And why, pray, are we spoiling our good looks,” 
demanded Coleena, “when we ought to be singing and 
shouting ? ” 

“ It’s shallow joy that sings and shouts,” returned 
Marjorie. 

“ Love maketh wise as well as tearful,” quoth Coleena. 
“ But really and truly this won’t do at all. Suppose, now, 
we had real cause for it — suppose, for instance, you had 
been jilted — what would you do ? ” 

“I don’t know. Drown myself, perhaps,” answered 
Marjorie, wiping her eyes. 

“ And we’d have the trouble of fishing you out, and 
drenched and draggled you wouldn’t look well. And the 
papers would make a hubbub about a love tragedy. That 
would be nice.” 

“ It’s nicer as it is, dear,” said Marjorie, her joy breaking 
out radiantly like sunshine after storm. 

“ Much nicer,” owned Coleena. “ And yet, you deep, 
sly, secretive monkey, you never gave the least hint. 
Are you annoyed with me for discovering the secret ? ” 

“ Annoyed ? Why should I be annoyed, dear ? ” 

“Oh,” replied Coleena comprehensively, “there may be 
many and varied reasons. For one thing, because you 
volunteered no information.” 

“ As to that,” said Marjorie flushingly, “ till he spoke I 
couldn’t.” 

“ But you can speak now.” 

“To you, dear,” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 179 

The words were accompanied by a look which made 
Coleena’s heart jump. 

“ Will you think me impertinent if I ask you a ques- 
tion ? ” she said eagerly. 

“ For yourself, ask anything you like.” 

“ Then are we to have you for a sister ? ” 

Marjorie’s eyes dropped, and her foot began to draw crazy 
figures on the carpet. 

“ I am impertinent, dear,” whispered Coleena. “ For- 
give me.” 

“ No, no,” returned Adarjorie, looking up quickly, 
“ you’re not impertinent.” 

“ But you’d rather not answer,” said Coleena softly. 

“ I’ll answer you and none else,” replied Marjorie. 
“ And the answer is, if he wishes it.” 

“ Then you really and truly would marry him ? ” cried 
Coleena in a dancing excitement. 

“ I’d die for him, dear,” was the simple response. 

Coleena leaped up, clapping her hands ecstatically, then 
as suddenly sat down again and put an arm caressingly 
about Marjorie. And seated thus they made a compact, 
that for the present, at any rate, the secret was not to be 
divulged, save in utmost confidence to Flo. 

That done, they passed, as was inevitable, from Ivor to 
Archy. Coleena remarked his hasty unexpected departure, 
and was surprised to notice that Marjorie seemed strangely 
agitated. But pursuing her own thoughts she forgot the 
curious look and the sudden flush. 

“ I wish,” she said, ending a commentary on his action 
— “ I wish he were a soldier like Ivor.” 

“ Then, dear, you might learn to like him,” returned 
Marjorie quietly. 

“ Oh, I haven’t to learn that,” cried Coleena, with un- 
blushing candour. “ I like him already. It was a pleasure 


i8o THE ETERNAL QUEST 

to talk to him, and the number of young lords of creation 
one likes to talk to in Aberfourie is not great, is it, dear ? 
Heigh-ho ! 

“ No,” replied Marjorie, with a wistful look. Should 
she tell Coleena why Archy had left so suddenly ? No, 
she could not face that ordeal ; and once again she held her 
peace. 


CHAPTER III 


A FORTNIGHT later came another letter from Ivor, giving 
a succinct and characteristic account of progress. ‘‘ The 
doctors being a great deal too busy to bother about trivial 
cases,” he wrote, “ I am doing much better than could be 
expected. If they let me alone a little while longer, I shall 
be on my pins and all right again. Dysentery and enteric 
are keeping them so hard at it that I’m in good hope of 
being forgotten.” 

The first intention was to invalid him home, but against 
such a mode of treatment he set his heart so determinedly 
that the doctors, certifying a wonderful recovery, presently 
sent him rejoicing to the front. 

To Archy the fickle gods were less kind. His old 
rooms in Edinburgh depressed him as with a disma 
dull. The welcome of Mrs. MacGilp, the landlady, a 
motherly, decayed gentlewoman and distant relative of 
his mother, seemed obtrusive, and he was inclined to re- 
sent as impertinence her hope that he should be comfort- 
able and happy. Comfortable and happy, indeed ! Why 
should the devil put it into the heads of old wives to be 
ironical ? 

Instead of unpacking and arranging his books, he went 
forth to taste city life, landed in a theatre, and returned at 
the back of midnight with a dishevelled look and a distinct 
odour of conviviality. To his disgust, Mrs. MacGilp sat 
up for him, and perceiving he had trodden the path of folly, 
would not be denied a word in season. 

“ Ah, Mr. Archibald, Mr. Archibald,” she said, with a 

i8i 


i 82 the eternal quest 

face Archy thought as long as the steeple of St. Giles. 
“ The very first night, and coming in like this ! It’s an 
unco way to prepare for preaching the gospel.” 

A profane retort leaped to Archy’s tongue, but he held it 
back and laughed. 

“Just a sort of preliminary canter, Mrs. MacGilp,” he 
explained with a grin. “ If you’re going to convert sin- 
ners, it’s best to be up to their little ways, you know. I 
have been learning. It’s a kind of study in natural history. 
If you want to understand beetles ” 

“ Beetles ! ” cried Mrs. MacGilp aghast. “ Dinna be 
speaking o’ God’s own image in the same breath with the 
hideous, abominable things. If one thing more than another 
gives me the scunner it’s a black crawling beetle. I once 
came on a cockroach in my broth, and it was ten years or 
I could bear the sight of broth again.” 

“ That was bad cooking,” said Archy gravely. “ The 
cockroach hadn’t been properly boiled j when they’re well 
done they dissolve and you swallow them without knowing 
it. Besides, it’s not Christian to hear ill-will against our 
fellow beings. A friend of mine who chanced to be thrown 
a great deal in their company got so friendly with cock- 
roaches he couldn’t sleep at night unless they were running 
over his face. As he slept with his mouth open you can 
imagine what happened.” 

“ Mr. Archibald, dinna ! ” cried Mrs. MacGilp, with a 
mortal shudder. “ It gives me the scunner just to think o’t.” 

“I assure you it’s true,” said Archy seriously. “Won’t 
you sit down, Mrs. MacGilp ? ” 

She accepted the invitation and he leaned forward, a 
wicked light in his eye. 

“You’ll have heard of the doctrine of evolution?” he 
remarked sweetly. 

“ I’ve heard a heap o’ doctrines one kind and another,” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 183 

was the response. “ Pm bad at minding names. What is 
it ye called it ? ” 

“ Evolution, and it’s a queer, queer doctrine, Mrs. Mac- 
Gilp.” 

“ Oh, likely no so queer but it can find a fellow,” re- 
torted Mrs. MacGilp. “ There’s nothing so daft but it can 
be matched.” 

“ And that’s quite true, Mrs. MacGilp,” assented Archy. 
“ Well, this doctrine of evolution is one of the strangest. 
What do you think it makes out ? ” 

“ Pm sure I couldn’t say. Maybe Pm not daft enough 
to guess,” answered Mrs. MacGilp, bristling a little as in 
self-defence. 

“ Men who are reputed wise believe in it,” said Archy 
urbanely. “ But you shall judge for yourself. It makes 
out for one thing that men and women are neither more 
nor less than grown up brothers and sisters of cockroaches.” 

“And who might he be that found that out?” inquired 
Mrs. MacGilp, stiffening disdainfully. 

“ A man named Darwin. And he said more than that.” 

“ Ah, well. Pm thinking he had as need to pray the Lord 
to gie him a good conceit of himself. What else did this 
wonderful man say ? ” 

“ That our forefathers used to swing on trees and things 
by their tails.” 

“ It must have been grand to see them,” returned Mrs. 
MacGilp, with tightened lips. “ Were the Darwin family 
remarkable for their fine tails ? Does he happen to know 
how we came to lose our tails ? ” 

“ In the process of evolution,” said Archy. “ What he 
makes out is, that we are all, every mother’s son of us, de- 
scended from monkeys.” 

“ I didn’t sit down to listen to blasphemy, Mr. Archi- 
bald,” was the severe response. “ The Lord will punish 


i 84 the eternal QUEST 

such iniquity. I shouldn’t wonder to hear this man Dar- 
win died in an asylum.” 

“ In faith he did not,” said Archy. “ He died quietly 
at home in his bed, much respected and deeply lamented, 
as the newspapers say.” 

“ If the devil was to die, some folk would lament,” re- 
joined Mrs. MacGilp. “ I’d just like to have seen Job set 
on Mr. Darwin. He’d give him his character in two twos. 
Did the poor man never hear tell o’ the Gairden o’ Eden ? 
Tell me, does he expect to meet many of his remote for- 
bears in heaven ? ” 

“ He doesn’t touch on that point,” answered Archy. 

“ A weel,” said the lady tartly, “ there may be a kind o’ 
pen for themselves — and him — kind o’ kennels at the back.” 
She started, as if on the brink of an abyss. “ God’s sake, 
where are ye leadin’ a poor old wife .? ” she cried. “ I’m 
dafter than you to sit and listen, and when I think of the 
mother that sent you here I canna convince myself she’d 
thank me for it, either. Have you no trokins with the evil 
one, Mr. Archibald, dear. He’s wily at laying snares. 
Get the grace of God, dearie, and never mind about 
monkeys and preliminary canters. Good-night.” 

As she rose Archy also rose, pushing the hair from his 
eyes. 

“ Good-night,” he answered. ‘‘ To-morrow I begin 
reading on the old plan.” 

“You’re near through with the divinity,” she said, look- 
ing him straight in the eyes. 

“ Another session will finish me, if I’m lucky,” he said. 

“ And then the pulpit — preaching repentance. Laddie, 
it’s a great responsibility. A great responsibility,” she 
repeated impressively, “ and a great privilege. Good-night 
again.” 

“ Good-night.” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 185 

He stood motionless till the sound of her footsteps died 
quite away. Then thrusting his hands into his pockets he 
laughed a low, hard laugh. 

“ ‘ Never mind monkeys and preliminary canters,* ** he 
repeated. “ One in the eye again.” 

Out of pure devilry he had meant to shock her, to prick 
her most sensitive nerve, noting results for amusement, and 
lo ! old woman as she was, she had scored off him. Eveiy- 
body was scoring off him. Well, let them beware. Even 
Job’s patience ran out at last. The forces of rebellion 
were stirring within, and anything might happen. 

He threw himself into a chair, his hands still in his 
trousers pockets, his head flung back, his legs stretched to 
their utmost length. 

“A bad start,” he remarked to himself, staring hard at 
the ceiling ; “ beyond doubt a devilishly bad start.” And 
a woman was the cause. A petticoat was always at the 
bottom of a man’s trouble. A long time he remained in 
that posture, smouldering in a fierce anger equally against 
himself and against others. It was near the dawn, and 
the ashes on the hearth were cold when at last he went to 
bed. 

An hour or two of nightmare scarcely improved matters, 
and he awoke unrefreshed. But youth in its bitterest mood 
is not proof against the tonic of the morning sun. When 
Archy drew aside his blinds, admitting a flood of sunshine, 
and looked forth, he was conscious of the effect of a subtle 
restorative. It was rather surprising to find the world 
laughing in the warning light. The serrated wilderness of 
roofs, rising ridge along ridge, sparkled joyously ; windows 
flashed and people passed briskly to and fro. It was good, 
after all, to be human and alive. 

Descending to breakfast, he lied, like a courtier to Mrs. 
MacGilp, telling her he had slept as sweetly as a cherub, 


i86 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

ate a doubtful breakfast, and then looked long and medita- 
tively at his unpacked books. To study or not to study. 
That was the question. Serious leeway had to be made up 
because of drifting in the Highlands. All the same, it was 
too soon to begin. A fellow must breathe a bit before 
tackling a winter's work. Besides, the official date was still 
some days off, and he were only fit for parchment who 
opened a text-book before the official date. 

For diversion he took up a position at the window to 
watch the passers-by. To a philosophic mind the pastime 
is not unedifying, since it suggests reflections which may be 
pursued through vast realms of thought. The hurryings 
to and fro of humanity seemed to Archy like the scurry- 
ings of disturbed ants. The stream of passengers included 
many shop-girls on their way to business, and the divinity 
student, leaning gallantly forth, fell to complimenting pretty 
faces. Not that he was impressed or found flattery amus- 
ing, but a running flirtation seemed a pretty piece of 
revenge on certain provoking members of the sex. It was 
with this idea in his head that he sang out the words of an 
old song : 


Shall I come, sweet Love, to thee 
When the ev’ning beams are set ? ” 

which brought for reply a peal of coquettish laughter. In 
the same moment a voice inquired from behind : 

“ Is this ongoing to your credit or mine, think you, Mr. 
Archibald ? ” 

Archy wheeled to meet the indignant, sorrowful face of 
Mrs. MacGilp. 

“ Oh, just a morning joke, Mrs. MacGilp,” he explained 
awkwardly. 

“ It's a joke that honest people can have little taste for,” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 187 

was the retort. “ The hussies lauchin* up at men in that 
way — they ought to be tarred and branded. Pm wonder- 
ing at you, Mr. Archibald. It's a queer way of preparing 
to preach the gospel." 

“ It may be queer and good," returned Archy haughtily, 
as if in answer to a challenge. A preacher ought to 
begin with a sound knowledge of human nature. Half of 
our preachers go to perdition because of their ignorance. 
Human nature is disporting itself before me. Pm study- 
ing it, and I tell you, Mrs. MacGlip, there's a deal of use- 
ful stuff to be got out of it." 

He took up a book, turned over the leaves irritably, and 
flung it into a corner. 

‘‘ It's an unco way of being set apart," said Mrs. 
MacGilp. 

“Set apart?" repeated Archy ironically. “That's just 
a fine name for laziness. If you want to overcome sin, 
you must go out into the open and fight it, and not skulk 
behind a church door with a sanctimonious face. Milton 
hated a cloistered and fugitive virtue ; and so do I. You 
mustn't be afraid of hot places if you're going to pluck 
brands from the burning." 

“ It's not by ogling impudent hussies at a window you're 
likely to pluck them," was the reply. 

A curious expression leaped into Archy's face. 

“If hussies were handled without gloves, the world 
would be a better place to live in," he said meaningly. 
“We have it from Scripture that woman began our troubles, 
and we have it from our own observation and experience 
that she continues them. Therefore, Mrs. MacGilp, I 
suggest to you the reform and regeneration of your own 
sex. Put it right, and you may pull down kirks and pen- 
sion preachers." 

He took his hat and moved to the door. 


1 88 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ Not going after them, Mr. Archibald ? ” cried Mrs. 
MacGilp in sudden fear. 

“ Perhaps,” he answered, enjoying her perturbation. 
“ Pm not sure. Why shouldn’t I ? ” 

“ Oh, ye’ll not do that, dearie ? ” she pleaded. “ For 
your mother’s sake you’ll not do that.” 

He looked at her and was touched to pity. Despite 
her censorious ways, he knew she cherished him like a 
son. 

“ Well,” he said in a softened voice, “ I’m going out, 
anyway.” 

“ You’ll be home for dinner ? ” 

“ It’s hard to say. No, I don’t think so.” 

And with that he went out, closing the door behind 
him. 


CHAPTER IV 


He did not return for dinner, nor for tea, nor for supper, 
and Mrs. MacGilp, having the germs of an imagination, 
was beset by awesome visions of limp bodies hauled drip- 
ping from black pools, or mangled from among train-wheels 
or horses’ feet. A feminine instinct told her all was not 
well with Archy. It might be conscience — would it were ! 
— but, sighing heavily from the depth of a great chest, she 
feared it was a woman. Under this apprehension she sat 
in the dusk by Archy’s front window, and watched the 
daughters of Eve flaunting their temptations. “Ay,” she 
said to herself wrathfully, “you’re extraordinar fine birds; 
I’d just like to dance on your feathers in the dirt. If only 
women would let men alone — but they won’t, they won’t,” 
repeated Mrs. MacGilp, as if driving the conviction home, 
“ and a great deal of downright wickedness is the conse- 
quence. I can see a dozen churches, and this goes on in 
their shadow.” 

She thought pityingly of Archy and his kind, exposed to 
the constant danger of gins and pitfalls. Mrs. MacGilp 
being sixty and a widow, stout, circumspect, and rather 
stern, could appropriately sit in judgment on her younger, 
better-looking, and less rigid sisters. 

It was midnight when Archy, after a scuffle with the 
latch-key, walked in. To her dismay he brought with him 
the unsanctified air and odour of the night before, plainly 
aggravated. He leered a little and laughed shockingly as 
he apologised for depriving her of sleep. It was immensely 
kind of her, he declared, to sit up for him, im-men-sely, 
but in future, when he chanced to be detained abroad, 

189 


190 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

would she go to bed like an honest Christian woman ? He 
could manage nicely for himself, thanks — nicely. 

“You’ll be needing something to eat?” she broke in. 

Archy laughed fatuously. 

“ Full to the bung,” he answered — “ full to the bung.” 

He had been most hospitably entertained, and would she 
do him the favour of going to bed ? On his word of honour 
she looked tired and sleepy. Thereupon he bowed her 
out, grinning inanely. That done, he lighted his pipe 
and sat down with a vague idea of reviewing the day’s 
proceedings. 

“ Not bad time at all,” he said to himself, hoisting his 
feet on the table — “ not bad time at all.” 

In truth the day had been strangely spent. Most of the 
forenoon he passed under Salisbury Crags considering the 
crisis in his affairs ; the afternoon and evening were 
mainly devoted to an ex-sergeant of dragoons, met by 
chance at a refreshment bar. As the ex-sergeant in addi- 
tion to a manly thirst had a fascinating tongue and a fund 
of the best army stories, Archy was charmed. Over a 
glass at a music-hall bar Archy confided to the ex-dragoon 
a statement of his position and prospects. He was in 
training for the Church, “ And this,” smirked Archy, “ is 
just the final fling.” 

“ I’d walk ten miles to hear a screed from you,” said the 
ex-dragoon, tapping him affectionately on the shoulder. 

An inspiration came to Archy. 

“ What would you say to military chaplain ? ” he asked 
eagerly. “ I have a friend who was once an army chaplain 
— and made a reputation in war.” 

“ Name ? ” said the other, taking a draught. 

“ Carmichael,” answered Archy. 

“Seem to have heard it before,” said the ex-dragoon, 
wiping his moustache. “ Ever in India ? ” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 19 1 

“Nearly all his time of service,” returned Archy, getting 
warmer and warmer. 

“ Yes, Eve heard of him,” said the ex-dragoon. “ Old 
friend of mine in the Sutherlands often talked of him. 
Dead now, poor fellow — I mean the Sutherland.” 

“ Perhaps you’ve heard of General Malcolm too ? ” cried 
Archy, pushing back his hat. 

“ You don’t mean Indian Malcolm ? ” 

“ The same.” 

“ Lord bless my soul,” cried the ex-sergeant excitedly — 
“ Lord bless my soul.” 

“ What’s the matter ? ” asked Archy. “ Are you ill ? ” 

“ 111 ? ” repeated the ex-dragoon. “ Oh, Lord bless me. 
Ill in talking of General Malcolm ? ” 

He began to pull up his sleeve, as it seemed in desperate 
haste. 

“ Won’t go high enough,” he said in disappointment. 

“ What do you want to get at ? ” queried Archy. 

“ A sabre cut that General Malcolm approved of. By 
gosh. I’d have the arm slashed off for such another look 
and nod. He’s a soldier’s general every inch — him and 
Hell-Fire Opherts. Heard of him ? Indians both of them. 
By gum, you know General Malcolm ? ” 

“ Particular friend of mine,” said Archy proudly. “ So 
is Mr. Carmichael, and let me add,” quoth Archy, colour- 
ing boyishly, “ the chaplain, as we call him, has the loveli- 
est daughter breathing to-day under heaven.” 

“ Hold hard there,” cried the ex-dragoon. “ You’re 
young, you’re mighty young.” 

“I’m three-and-twenty,” responded Archy, drawing him- 
self up as if to display his inches. “ That’s not so very 
young, my friend.” 

“ Ah, you’re even younger than I thought,” rejoined the 
ex-sergeant. “ Multiply three-and-twenty by two, plus 


lor 

*92 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 


the experience of a thousand, and you have me. Experi- 
ence, that’s what counts. Six-and-forty, two score and six, 
over and above the experience of an army man. For three 
years I’ve drawn Her Gracious Majesty’s pension. How 
does that come ? How does it happen I’ve had that sabre cut 
on my shoulder for most of my natural life? Because I’ve 
served with the colours, says you. Well and good. How 
does it come I served with the colours, then ? How was 
it that I, being brought up in a Christian home and know- 
ing my shorter catechism same as you, went forth for to 
slay my fellow men ? Listen and I’ll tell you. When I 
was two-and-twenty — a year younger than you and a good 
deal greener than spring grass — when I was twenty-two 
and a lawyer’s understrapper training for lord advocate and 
maybe president of the court of session, there happened to 
be a man in the same town of Edinburgh with the loveliest 
daughter breathing under heaven.” He stroked his grisled 
moustache reminiscently. “You begin to twig? Well, 
it naturally occurred to me she’d make a suitable wife for a 
future ornament of the bar. I even went so far as to sug- 
gest the thing to herself, and she smiled, because she wanted 
me as a plaything. You’ll rise early the day you’re up to a 
woman, my friend. For a while I rattled like a tin can at 
her tail, and was happy, being, as I told you, two-and- 
twenty and extraordinary green. But one day she took a 
fancy to a new tin can — fancier about the edges and better 
gilt, you understand — and — well, never mind details. One 
day I found a lance corporal bullying me over an ill- 
groomed troop-horse. The beggar rode under me after- 
wards — but never mind that. You have the wherefore and 
the why of my soldiering in a nutshell.” 

“ Ah ! ” said Archy, drawing a long breath. 

“ I’m hoping it’s not another case of tin can/* said the 
ex-sergeant with exquisite cruelty. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 193 

Archy winced, laughing to hide his confusion. 

“ It’s curious,” he remarked. “ I won’t deny there’s 
been a bit of a disappointment.” 

“Just so,” returned the other serenely. “A new tin 
can with a little more glitter to it. I’ll be bound. That’s 
how men come to serve with the colours and go forth to 

kill in disregard of their mothers’ teaching Ay, to kill 

people they’ve no quarrel with. Well, it’s none of my 
business. I’m none of your inquisitive folk — don’t answer 
unless you think you can trust me — who’s the other tin 
can ? ” 

“ It will go no farther ? ” said Archy. 

“ Farther ? ” cried the old soldier. “ I take back the 
question. Don’t tell me. You have got my confidence. 
I’m not worthy of yours. Let’s drink and part.” 

“You shall know,” responded Archy, turning uncom- 
monly hot. “ He’s General Malcolm’s son.” 

The sergeant took a deep pull at his tankard. 

“ Well,” he remarked after drawing breath, “ all I can 
say is, that if he’s like his father, you’ve a tough time ahead. 
By the bye, I surely saw Malcolm in the list from India 
the other day.” 

“ Very likely,” said Archy. “ He’s at the front and 
wounded.” 

“ Now that’s unlucky,” said the sergeant musingly. 
“ Nothing fetches a woman like a wound — she doesn’t see. 
Wounds are not so romantic and heroic at close quarters. 
I take it she’s in the North. I think you told me you 
come from the North.” 

“Yes; she’s at home in the Highlands,” replied Archy. 

“ So, so. Romantic, of course,” said the sergeant. 
“ Pitying him, dreaming of him, making him out a hero.” 

“ Exactly,” cried Archy. 

“ I’ve known such cases,” said the sergeant. “ By the 


194 


THE ETERNAL GUEST 


way, talking’s dry work. Thank you, the same drop of 
medicine again. I never mix. I hope you haven’t caved 
in.” 

“Thrown overboard,” laughed Archy. 

“Then you’ll presently understand why men take the 
queen’s shilling. There are worse jobs than the army. I 
took the plunge headlong. What plunge are you going to 
take ? ” 

“ Why, into a pulpit,” answered Archy. “ There’s plenty 
of fighting to be done there.” 

The dragoon laughed uproariously. 

“ Good man,” he cried — “ good man.” 

“I think there’s another turn on,” remarked Archy, 
feeling the air getting too hot. 

After the last turn came supper, and after supper a 
fraternal parting under a lamp-post and the interview with 
Mrs. MacGilp already recorded. 


CHAPTER V 


The University doors were flung open and light-hearted 
youth flocked to imbibe knowledge, its pulses beating the 
march of a strenuous ambition. For Scotland, being poor 
and dependent on brain, bravely takes brain as its weapon, 
to what purpose history tells. Whence it comes that the 
time of the opening of the winter session at a northern 
University is a time of fiery ardour, indomitable hope, and 
the dreaming of great dreams. Eager, shining faces press 
from every corner of the land and most ranks of society, 
from the shepherd’s sheiling, the cotter’s hut, from brood- 
ing glens and lonesome mountain-sides, as well as from the 
bustle of cities and towns. And the sons of the glen and 
the sheiling bear themselves so that crowned in the class- 
room they go forth — to make history. It is the way of the 
race to be rulers of kingdoms, scholars, travellers, soldiers, 
statesmen, legal luminaries, commercial magnates, movers 
of mankind in thought and action. Among the clover and 
the broom and by the sheepfolds boys learn the rousing 
lesson, and in due time troop to professors of enchantment, 
eager for instruction in the magic art of getting on. What 
were a country, poor in material resources, without such a 
spirit in her sons ? A drudge, the scullery-maid of power. 
A mighty peasantry has set Scotland among the makers of 
laws, the guides and guardians of State. 

Archy, too, had been touched, had dreamed the great 
Scottish dream, and actually done something towards mak- 
ing it a reality. He had the brain and the muscle which 
are made for victory ; but a poison entered his soul — a 
poison that turned collegiate triumphs to Dead Sea fruit, 
and in secret made him bite his lip till it bled. Of his fel- 

195 


196 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

low students he became bitterly disdainful. He was in that 
callow crew, but not of it, for he had been out on the surg- 
ing sea of passion and been tossed and battered into a 
knowledge far beyond the bounds of text-books. He was 
a man, the rest were boys, and the shining professors of 
the magic art were merely very dull pedants refreshing for 
each new batch of scholars a stock of exceedingly rusty 
lore. Bah ! what did they know of the baffling world of 
men and women, the world with which one fights to the 
death, to which one holds on by bleeding heart-strings ? 
He studied his smug cocksure instructors, wondering if 
their right reverend heads were stuffed with chopped straw 
or mouldy chaff. It was a dangerous spirit in one prepar- 
ing for examinations. 

In former sessions he had had a name for geniality, now 
he did his best to throw the last shreds from him. 

“You are very young,” was his response to one who had 
captured a ten-pound bursary and ran to him for congrat- 
ulations. “ I advise you to keep cool. As you gain ex- 
perience you’ll find that enthusiasts are mostly fools — 
mostly fools,” he repeated, dwelling upon the sentiment as 
upon a savoury morsel, “ and, let me add, generally nui- 
sances. Rid yourself of the vice. I assure you the swing 
of the universe in no way depends on the winning or losing 
of ten-pound bursaries.” 

The boy stared for a moment over the rebuff, then went 
off to report Buchanan’s madness. And Archy, it must 
be said, was not the man to preach one thing and practise 
another. His studies were erractic and much interrupted. 
It was noted with amazement, not unmixed with satisfac- 
tion, that he who used to shine as naturally as the sun was 
losing reputation in the divinity hall. Confirmation of evil 
prophecies came when a scholarship which had been specu- 
latively awarded to him in advance went to another. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 197 

“ What’s come over Buchanan ? ” was the cry. “ He 
has lost, and doesn’t seem to care.” 

They had to be contented with speculation, for Archy 
did not choose to enlighten them. He was much with the 
ex-dragoon, and the ex-dragoon’s friends, some of whom 
were still with the colours. They accepted Archy glee- 
fully as a man and a brother, his purse being open, and 
imparted knowledge not included in college curricula. 
These jolly philosophers had seen the world by many 
a lurid light and dwelt on the joy and stress of living. 
Every man of them had had experiences, which, as re- 
counted over a glass of ale or a drop of special Scotch, 
made divinity look shrunken and grey. They had no sort of 
respect for the cobweb wisdom of schools, these men of the 
sword, and pretended none. 

“ If I was you, matey,” said one, addressing Archy with 
an impediment of speech, due to an excess of conviviality, 
“ I’d cut the painter, that’s what I’d do. What does col- 
lege professors ken? Ye mind what Bobbie says ‘They 
gang in stirks and come out asses.’ ‘ Gang in stirks and 
come out asses ’ — man, that’s grand. Bobbie kenned. If 
I was you. I’d gie college the slip. Yer losin’ yer time.” 

“ And where would you go ? ” inquired Archy. 

The other cast a glance round upon her Majesty’s uni- 
forms. 

“There’s the army,” he answered, wiping an oozy 
mouth. “ Provided yer no’ killed, and can scrape through 
dysentery and cholera and typhoid and the like, sodgerin’s 
no’ so bad a job ava. Eh, Weelliam ? ” 

Weelliam was the ex-sergeant of dragoons. 

“ No,” he answered promptly — “ no.” 

“I’m an old sodger myself,” pursued the other; “and 
providin’ ye can stand disease, and fight on an empty 
stomach, and dinna mind a bit lead in ye whiles, or 


igS THE ETERNAL QUEST 

maybe the prog of a bayonet or an Afghan knife, I tell 
you sodgerin’s a right hearty thing. The fun’s never far 
to seek, and the canteen’s handy for loose change. Stand 
up till I see ye. Man, a fine strappin’ fellow,” as Archy in 
mock gravity stood up with military rigidity. “ Six feet if 
an inch.” 

“Just half an inch out,” said Archy. 

“ Over or under ? ” 

“ Over.” 

“ Five feet eleven and a half, well set up, firm on the 
pins. Weelliam, there’s a heavy dragoon for ye. Just 
cock yer eye at that.” 

“Yes,” responded Weelliam, with remarkable alacrity. 

“ That would look well astride a troop-horse.” 

“ Good enough for the Life Guairds,” ventured a be- 
nighted civilian. 

“ Life Guairds ? ” echoed the old dragoon in disgust. 
“ Frippery-frappery for London nursemaids. Grand things 
for sending out with perambilators ; as for fighting, they 
know just about enough to charge tail first. What would 
be your taste now, horse or foot ? ” 

“ In case I were choosing, I think horse,” was the reply. 

“ Right,” cried the old sergeant — “ right. More pay, 
more fun, and a better chance of loot. I’d rather hear 
the trumpet than the bugle any day.” 

Archy looked puzzled. 

“ What’s the difference ? ” he asked, with civilian sim- 
plicity. 

“ That’s like a college question,” returned the dragoon. 
“ All the difference between toddling on foot and having 
a good horse under you. It’s wonderful how ignorance 
holds on. I saw the other day where one of your fine 
war correspondents said that the bugle sounded the charge 
to a body of cavalry. It was printed in a British news- 


199 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

paper, too. Since when did buglers give cavalry the tip ? ’’ 
He lay back roaring with laughter. “ We’re not a military 
people,” he said, recovering himself. “ But you’d rather 
be horse than foot ? ” 

“ I think so.” 

“And ye’d like the army ? ” 

“ I shouldn’t be surprised.” 

The dragoon turned to a sergeant of lancers, remarking 
quietly : 

“ You’ve got a shilling from the queen, haven’t you ? ” 

The lancer, who had been watching with bright eyes, 
came forward briskly. 

“ Here we are,” he cried gaily, ready to slap the coin 
into Archy’s hand. He received for answer a withering, 
contemptuous look. 

“ I have no doubt you are doing what you imagine is 
your duty,” said Archy ; “ but it’s a dirty trick.” 

“ A dirty trick ? ” cried the ex-dragoon, bristling in 
wounded honour. “ A dirty trick ? ” 

“ A dirty trick,” repeated Archy, with yet greater em- 
phasis. 

“ It was my suggestion,” said the ex-dragoon, the blood 
surging to his face. 

“ It smells none the better for that,” retorted Archy. 

“Take care,” said the ex-dragoon, in the attitude of a 
cat about to spring. 

“ Thank you, I will,” returned Archy, “ and to that end 
I wish you a very good-night.” 

He moved to the door, but the ex-dragoon was there first. 

“ You’re not going,” he said, planting his back against 
the door. “ There’s a misunderstanding. You mustn’t go 
till we make up.” 

“ I wish to go,” said Archy resolutely. 

“ If you’re bent on going without forgiving an old friend 


200 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

who thought he was doing you a good turn,” said the ex-‘ 
sergeant, with a pained expression, “ say the word and the 
way’s clear.” 

“ I don’t think I’m unforgiving, but ” 

‘‘ I knew it ! ” cried the dragoon, breaking in. ‘‘ I 
knew it ! ” He stepped back. 

“ If you’re unforgiving, you’ll go straight out, never so 
much as looking over your shoulder. If you are forgiving, 
you’ll just take your seat again and give me — give us all — 
the pleasure of drinking your health. If you go,” dropping 
his voice plaintively, “ it will be one more disappointment, 
that’s all.” 

For a moment Archy stood as if debating with himself ; 
then wheeled back into his old place. The recruiting 
sergeant came gallantly forward. 

“I’m to blame,” he said. “We’ll drink that queen’s 
shilling and put it out of pain.” 

They drank, laughed, told stories of camp and field, 
swore friendship, parted as boon comrades, and in the like 
fervent spirit met again and often to renew pledges — gen- 
erally at Archy’s expense. Owing to these engagements 
the divinity student was obliged not only to desert his 
room of an evening, thus foregoing the good counsel of 
Mrs. MacGilp, but to absent himself with increasing fre- 
quency from the class-room. Wherefore Mrs. MacGilp, 
as a kind of unofficial guardian, had searchings of heart 
which she presently communicated in dark hints and half- 
expressed fears to Archy’s mother. Thus it came about 
that one night on returning late to his lodgings Archy 
found his father awaiting him, with a face wrought to a 
tense, disquieting grimness. 


CHAPTER VI 


In his surprise, and, be it said in fairness, his delight 
Archy noticed neither the grimness nor the marmoreal chill 
which came of it. The Aberfourie banker had sometimes 
to run up to headquarters on business, and Archy blithely 
took it for granted that the bank’s affairs were the cause of 
this unannounced visit. On this easy assumption he was 
unfeignedly glad. 

“ I didn’t expect this,” he cried, taking his father’s 
hand in a warm if rather loose grip. “ When did you 
arrive ? ” 

“ Some four hours ago,” was the answer, made in freez- 
ing tones. But Archy was not to be frozen. 

‘‘Well, I’m delighted,” he said — “delighted. Unex- 
pected pleasures are always sweetest, they say.” 

“ And unexpected pains sharpest,” came in response. 
“ As for delight, it’s a good rule not to praise the fair day 
till evening. Ecstasies are fittest at the end.” 

Outside, a clammy autumn mist preluded a dripping 
winter, and possibly it dimmed Archy’s eyes as the hum 
and fumes of revelry still bewildered his brain. At any 
rate he did not observe the dark significance of his father’s 
words and expression. 

Smiling urbanely and a trifle inanely he turned to the 
cold rations which Mrs. MacGilp had laid out for supper, 
inviting his father with great cheerfulness to “ have some- 
thing to eat and tell the news.” The reply was a curt 
refusal to eat and the remark that the news would keep till 
Archy had finished. 

“ But you’ll have something,” persisted Archy, “ if only 
201 


202 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

for companionship ? I’m sorry I was out when you arrived. 
If I had had the least inkling ” 

‘‘ You’d have been here to receive me, of course,” put 
in his father. “ I can easily believe that. As for eating, 
one o’clock in the morning suppers do not suit me.” 

“ Well, if you won’t so much as give me your company 
at table,” said Archy, with undiminished cordiality, “ tell 
me about home. How is mother ? ” 

“ I regret to say your mother is not at all well,” was the 
response. 

“ I’m sorry to hear that,” said Archy in quick and 
genuine concern. 

“ I’m sorry to have to tell you,” said his father. 

“ What is the matter ? ” asked Archy. 

“ When you’ve had your supper I’ll tell you.” 

Some quality of tone at last struck through the fog and 
fumes clear into Archy’s brain. A swift suspicion, fol- 
lowed by a swifter fear, made him cold. Were back-door 
meddlers and scandal-mongers — unctuous hypocrites who 
gloat over other people’s sins to the neglect of their own 
— were these at their slimy work ? If so, might a just 
Providence give them a hot spot in the place prepared for 
their kind. 

On the pivot of that vengeful thought he swung round 
and met his father’s eye. It was hard, with a sort of 
set, steely glitter, before which Archy’s fell in confusion. 
There came upon him an overpowering consciousness of 
futility. Besides, something still hummed and whirled in 
his head, turning his thoughts to mockery. But he must 
speak, so he said with what composure was possible : 

“ Will you tell me now, sir. What is the matter with 
mother ? ” 

The banker drew himself up stiffly, his face contracting 
and twitching. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 203 

“ Are you fit to understand ? ” he asked. 

Archy put on a ludicrous simulation of surprise and 
indignation. 

Fit to understand ? ” he repeated. “ What do you 
mean ? ’’ 

“ Exactly what I say,” was the retort, “ neither more 
nor less. You needn’t affect surprise at my question. I 
come to your lodgings and find them empty, and I wait 
four hours before you come to me — you know yourself 
how.” 

“You are going too far and too fast, sir,” said Archy 
helplessly. 

“ If you are not fit to understand,” his father went on, 
disregarding the interruption, “go to bed. To-morrow 
morning you may be more like what a divinity student 
ought to be.” 

He spoke slowly, deliberately, and with a ring that was 
not to be mistaken. It was plain to Archy the informer 
had been at work, and the discovery roused his muddled 
faculties. 

“ I do not know what you have to say,” he returned ; 
“ but you do me wrong in thinking me incapable of under- 
standing it, whatever it is.” 

Archy rose, swinging his arms in repudiation. 

“ I sincerely hope so,” rejoined his father in the same 
quiet excruciating voice — “ I am sure I most sincerely 
hope so. Sit down,” and when Archy complied: “You 
ask me what is the matter with your mother. I will 
answer you in a word — you, YOU.” 

Archy recoiled as from a blow. He was getting sober 
swiftly, very swiftly. The feeling of gaiety, the sound of 
liquorish mirth, were gone. He awoke to find himself 
defenceless before a father justly angry and resolved not to 
spare. 


204 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ Are you fit to understand now that I have told you ? 

Archy gripped the sides of his chair, like one over whom 
the dentist hangs, forceps in hand. His throat was sud- 
denly parched, every vein throbbed, every nerve quivered. 

“ I perfectly understand,” he replied, “ and I am sorry 
if ” 

He was interrupted as by the flash of a drawn sword. 

‘‘ Sorry ? ” repeated Mr. Buchanan, leaping to his feet. 
“ Sorry ? ” He strode across the room, wheeled and faced 
his son. “You going in for the Church! ” he cried in an 
access of fury — “ you going to preach the gospel to sinners 
— you I Does God mean His chosen servants to break 
hearts and serve the devil ? ” 

“ Don't,” pleaded Archy, shuddering in agony — “ father, 
don’t.” 

“ Oh yes, it’s hard and cruel of me to disturb you. 
I ought to pamper you — supply you with money and ask 
no questions, so that you may go gaily on your — your 
hellish courses. But as it happens I didn’t come all the 
way to Edinburgh to mince words and play the courtier 
to my son. The time has come for plain speech ; and 
I have this to tell you, that you are breaking your mother’s 
heart, to say nothing of mine, that you are wasting your 
opportunities and misspending my money on God knows 
what. We pinch that you may not, scrape that you may 
act the fool in Edinburgh — and for aught I know, perhaps 
something worse than the fool.” 

“ It’s not so bad as that,” said Archy — “ believe me, 
it’s not so bad as that.” 

“ I believe it’s a great deal worse,” was the rejoinder. 
“I dare not think how you have abandoned yourself and 
disgraced us. You are absent from your classes for days 
together, you have not spent an evening in your lodgings, 
Sunday or Saturday, for a week, and you come reeling in 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 205 

I at midnight to give me a fuddled greeting. You in the 
Church ! ” he reiterated with added bitterness — “ you pre- 
suming to preach to sinners ! I think God would strike 
I you dead for your hypocrisy if you tried.” 

“ You are unjust, father — terribly, cruelly unjust,” cried 
Archy, tugging at his watch-chain as if trying to break it. 
“ I will not deny you have cause to be angry with me, but 
you are unjust.” 

‘‘ Upon my word, you are generous,” was the retort. 
“You will not deny I have cause to be angry with you, 
but I am unjust! Well, then, justify yourself : show me 
that you have not been wasting my money, that you 
have been attending to your studies, that you have not 
been mingling with the foul riff-raff of taverns, and maybe 
of worse places — show me all that.” 

; Archy was making such desperate efforts to swallow 
something that he could not instantly answer, 
j “You may well gape,” pursued his father scornfully. 
i“ It’ll take all your college logic to justify you. I’m think- 

I j ing. Where were you to-night ? Where have you been 
■ every night for a week ? Why have you not been inside 
(the University gates for two days ? Tell me that. Justify 
yourself, if I am unjust. Go on, I am waiting for your 
justification.” 

That lump in Archy’s throat grew till it nearly choked 
him, and it was as a choking man he managed to say : 

“ I have been a little foolish, sir, but nothing more — 

I upon my honour, nothing more.” 

“ I wish I could accept your honour as good security,” 

I was the response. “ I confess you have shown yourself 
I much more of a fool than I thought possible. But your 
j simple admission on that point is no justification.” 

; Archy’s face, which had been deadly white, crimsoned 
ominously. 


2o6 the eternal quest 

“ Only my father would dare to question my honour,” he 
said, a kind of suppressed surge in his voice. “ Before him 
I am dumb as to that. But it will make it impossible for 
me to speak if even he suspects that my honour is worth- 
less as a pledge of truth. I have been a fool, but a fool 
who has not yet, thank God, parted with his honour. Will 
my father believe that ? ” 

Archy was stung, and his father knew it. As a banker, 
Mr. Buchanan saw a deal of naked human nature, and had 
thus learned something of the difficult art of reading its 
mixed characters. In the lottery of humanity the winning 
word is “ compromise.” Yield minor points if you would 
gain important ; give way in order to make way ; surrender 
gracefully that you may take liberally. Mr. Buchanan, be- 
ing bred to the most worldly of callings, knew that to sub- 
mit with discretion is to conquer. The feeling that Archy 
had been pushed to the utmost point of wisdom suggested 
a modification, if not a change, of tactics. At the same 
time he remembered the folly of precipitate retreat. 

“ I am pleased,” he said with a softer intonation, “ to 
find you so nice about your honour. For to tell the truth, 
a son’s honour is a father’s also. I spoke, perhaps, a trifle 
hastily under provocation. You pledge your honour you 
have been foolish, no more, and I accept the pledge. But 
as between father and son, I crave your confidence as 
well.” 

If the former stroke roused Archy, this reduced him again. 

“ I will tell you all,” he cried, his voice vibrating like a 
thumbed harp-string. 

And in a rush he told of the casual acquaintance with 
soldiers and ex-soldiers, the visits to the tavern, the theatre, 
and the music-hall. These things were foolish — utterly 
foolish ; his father might lay on the lash there ; but on his 
honour they no more, and they were ended. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 207 

The banker listened to the recital with the fixed counte- 
nance which was now as a second nature to him. 

“ I thank you for your frankness,” he said when Archy 
stopped, out of breath. “ It is best to be straightforward. 
But there is something that puzzles me yet — the reason for 
this extraordinary turning aside and neglect of your studies. 
You have not explained that.” 

Archy reddened like a girl. 

“ You won’t ask me that now ? ” he responded, voice 
and face pleading even more than the words. “ I beg it 
as a favour.” 

Mr. Buchanan drew a hard breath, though his face was 
marble. 

“ A woman ? ” he said, his head bent as if to catch the 
answer the more quickly. 

“If I must tell,” replied Archy, wriggling as over an 
arrow in his vitals : “a woman.” 

Mr. Buchanan paused a moment, looking very hard at 
his son. 

“And probably unworthy of you,” he said quietly. 

“ Quite the reverse,” cried Archy, as in wild haste to re- 
move a wrong impression. “ She’s too good for me — too 
good. That’s the trouble.” 

He laughed a hard, stricken laugh. 

“ Will you tell me who she is ? ” his father asked in the 
same measured tone as before. 

“ Don’t ask me,” pleaded Archy. “ I cannot tell you ; 
it would do no good.” 

Mr. Buchanan moved a hand across a countenance at 
last wrought with fear and pity. 

“ A woman — and too good,” he murmured. “ God help 
you,” and he could not help adding mentally, “and me 
too.” 


CHAPTER VII 


The invocation, uttered ^vith a fervour wholly new in 
the banker, brought an awkward silence. For a little he 
tramped up and down the room, as was his habit when 
deeply moved. Then all at once he pulled up, turning a 
drawn face upon his son. 

“ It’s time to be asleep,” he remarked ; “ two o’clock in 
the morning explanations are good for neither mind nor 
temper. Leave me your tobacco and go to bed.” 

His manner said he wished to be alone, and Archy obe- 
diently left him. When the door closed, he drew a hand 
wearily across his forehead, and dropped, brooding, into an 
easy chair, the tobacco pouch crumpled in his hand. 

‘‘A woman,” he said to himself, drawing his brows to- 
gether — ‘‘ a woman. When a woman crosses a man’s path 
anything may happen — anything.” 

He lifted his head, staring vacantly, and began mechan- 
ically to fill his pipe. 

“ Anything may happen,” he repeated inwardly, “ and 
unfortunately, something usually does happen.” 

He struck a match, and another, and another, applying 
them absently, and as absently pulling ; then he sat a long 
time motionless, the cold pipe in his teeth, thinking in- 
tensely. He had come to put an end to boyish freaks, due, 
as he had fancied, to the light-hearted devilry of students, 
and lo ! a woman, the fount and cause of man’s trouble 
from Adam down. Who was she ? What malign spell 
had she cast upon her victim ? His anger passed from the 
erring Archy to the scarlet temptress who set gins and 
snares for unwary feet, and in the transfer it was seven 

208 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 209 

times heated. Archy had said that the sorceress was too 
good for him. That was the nonsense of an infatuated 
fool. Too good — after she had spoiled his strength, mocked 
and flung him aside ! 

On that swirl of pride and passion he came back to 
questions more practical and pressing. The strange woman 
had unholy power, as Solomon and all wise men declared. 
How was Archy to be rescued ? Was he to finish his 
course, or abandon theology, a broken reed, at two-and- 
twenty ? In case of the worst, how would his mother 
feel ? What would the neighbours say It was gall and 
wormwood to think that Aberfourie gossips and scandal- 
mongers might gloat over Archy^s fall and his own humilia- 
tion. 

With pulses drumming deliriously he opened the window 
for a breath of fresh air. The moon, struggling mistily, 
shed a pallid lustre on steeple and terraced roof. Mr. 
Buchanan lowered the light, drew up the blind, and leaned 
forth. The keen night air bathed his hot cheeks and beat- 
ing temples, soothing as with a cordial the crazy pulses. 
The hurt father looked outward and upward. The city, 
silent and asleep, simmered under a gauzy veil of moonlight. 
Somewhere among the twinkling lights, under the gleaming 
roofs, slept or schemed or rioted, he made no doubt, the 
cause of all his vexation. He could have found it in his 
heart to seek and strangle the evil enchantress. But being 
a practical man, accustomed to logical views, and, more- 
over, being much cooled by the breath of night, he once 
more asked himself what was to be done with or for Archy. 

With that he lowered the blinds, turned back, and re- 
sumed his pipe. At the sound of rustling and murmuring 
in the next room he held his breath, listening. Archy, poor 
boy, was tossing and talking in sleep. Touched by that 
sign of distress, Mr. Buchanan opened the door softly and 


210 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

peered in. A veiled radiance filled the room, outlining the 
figure on the bed. For a moment the banker hearkened 
intently, then moved quietly and swiftly to the bedside. 

All at once a great tenderness swelled in his breast, and 
stooping without thought of what he was about, he kissed 
his boy’s forehead, once, twice, thrice. He no sooner lifted 
his head than a great fear seized him, a fear of being caught, 
even by his own child, in a sentimental mood. Running 
away like a thief on tiptoe, he shut the door, turned off 
the gas, and fled to his own room on the floor above. And 
as he went Archy rose on his elbow to listen, tears in his 
eyes and a choking sensation in his throat. For his sleep 
being a pretence he had thrilled at his father’s kiss. 


CHAPTER VIII 


The meeting next morning was as free and cordial as a 
vivid sense of guilt on the one side, and on the other a 
painful feeling of constraint, could make it. Archy hastened 
to relieve both his father and himself by courageously taking 
up their difference where it had been dropped, at the same 
time disarming criticism by a frank avowal of wrongdoing, 
coupled with a promise of amendment. On this basis of 
repentance they had breakfast, the banker eating with a rel- 
ish and lightness of spirit he durst not express because of a 
troublesome dignity. 

“ I’m to understand it’s dead and done with, then,” he 
observed with a shrewd look. 

“ Absolutely,” answered Archy, with convincing fervour 
— “ I assure you, absolutely. It was folly from the first, a 
kind of spring fever. But it’s over, you may depend on that.” 

“ If you ask me, I will,” was the instant response. 
“ And I take it you will see no more of those soldier fel- 
lows. I have no doubt they would shame Hector for 
bravery, and are as justly proud of their laurels as a pea- 
cock is of his feathers ; but they’re not in the least likely 
to help you in divinity.” 

“ I give them up, too,” said Archy, with hot gills. 

“ That’s proper,” remarked his father, suppressed joy 
in tone and feature. “You see, the time has come to be 
circumspect, and — well, if you like to call it so, more than 
ordinarily politic. I’m not the man to be down on natural, 
wholesome pleasure ; a little nonsense now and then keeps 
wisdom fresh. All the same, it behoves a divinity student 
in his last year to be discreet. He must never forget that 
he’s on exceedingly thin ice, and that if he goes down, the 
211 


212 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

chances are all for drowning. Others may trip and re- 
cover ; but the young preacher, or the old for that matter, 
must keep from stumbling. ’’ 

“ Then you don’t believe that in the Church, as in law, 
it is best to set a thief to catch a thief,” laughed Archy. 

“ A ruinous doctrine,” was the reply — “ a perfectly ruin- 
ous doctrine. Ministers don’t keep others from forbidden 
fruit by eating it themselves. Though they’re but men — 
and some of them nothing to boast of at that. I’m sorry to 
say — they have to act as if they were at least part angels. 
Maybe, they have their fling on the sly, maybe they 
haven’t ; in any case they can’t have it in public, because, 
my dear Archy, people will not tolerate in their minister 
what they gracefully condone in themselves. And that’s 
why,” he went on, warming with the virtue of a counsel- 
lor, “ that’s why the probationer has to be particularly care- 
ful. The candidate for a pulpit presents himself for ap- 
proval before wooden-headed old men and women — me and 
the like of me, if you care to put it that way.” 

“ I shouldn’t dream of that,” cried Archy, in smiling 
protest. 

“ Oh, well, the illustration will serve,” rejoined his 
father. “To proceed : the candidate, with all his fine col- 
lege honours thick upon him, presents himself for the ap- 
proval of a lot of old fogeys, most of whom never saw a 
university ; and if they hear of anything suspicious or un- 
becoming in his past, they shake the head, and he’s done 
for — ay, though he preaches like an angel, prays like a 
saint, and looks purer than new-fallen snow. No power on 
earth can save him or make the dunder-heads give reasons ; 
mind that. They simply shake their empty noddles and 
he’s got to pack. Now, that’s an inglorious sequel to col- 
lege freaks.” 

In his ordinary mood Archy would have met such argu- 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 213 

ments with sarcasm ; but the moment being inopportune 
for cynical remarks, he bowed filially, took what he was 
told as gospel, and was grateful for good counsel. The 
banker brightened perceptibly. 

“ Pm glad after all I came up,” he said warmly. 

“ Pm glad too,” answered Archy, the ring of real de- 
light in his voice. “ Next time I hope you will come with 
more agreeable anticipations, and also more satisfaction.” 

Mr. Buchanan agreed ; but it is doubtful whether he 
spoke as he felt. For it is not the unbroken rectitude, the 
straight line drawn and followed with blameless prudence, 
that stir and melt the soul. It is the error owned, the 
wrong made right. In the world of conduct and affection, 
to step aside and step back again, repentant, is to bring 
hearts together with an electric intensity of joy unknown 
save to wandering sheep and their shepherds. The return- 
ing prodigal, not the dutiful home-keeping son, had the 
feast of fatted calf, and in heaven ninety and nine just men 
and perfect have to stand aside to witness the rejoicing over 
a rescued sinner. It is as hard and inevitable as a law of 
nature. 

In the midst of their concord a letter was brought to the 
banker from his wife which was so full of tremulous anx- 
iety about the hope, the pride of her life, that he must 
needs go out there and then and telegraph an “ All well ” 
to set her at ease. 

“ There,” said his father to Archy when the message was 
passed and paid for, “ that will make her happy.” 

“ Was she very unhappy ? ” asked Archy, with a catch 
of the breath. 

“ Come along and Pll tell you,” was the answer. 
“ When I received certain news from Edinburgh I was 
angry, very angry. She took some one’s part, and I said 
in a tone I ought never to use to her : ‘ I suppose you 


214 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

would rather go to torment with him than to bliss without 
him ? * She looked at me very hard, and what do you 
think she said ? Just this : ‘ Bliss would not be bliss to 

me without him/ Those were her very words. And such 
is a mother’s love. If sons but knew, they would never 
do anything to pain their mothers. For I think it is true, 
Archy, that the mother who bore him loves a man past all 
else and all others.” 

Mr. Buchanan quickened his step suddenly, and Archy 
was glad they were in a quiet street, so that his face might 
not be observed. Well, the past was the past. No man 
can undo what has been done. But he made a vow with 
himself never again to put those who loved him to the tor- 
ture. He had had a lesson scalded into him as in hot tears. 
All at once new powers seemed to move within him. The 
ambition that had slept and stumbled was alert again. 
There were still six months to prove what he meant to do — 
six long glorious months. He would go home in honour yet. 

In the first reading of his mother’s letter one item had 
gone unnoticed because of the turmoil of feeling. It oc- 
cupied the part which is said to be most important in a 
lady’s letter — to wit, the postcript. 

“ I hear,” so it ran, “ that although Ivor has only just 
got back to duty he has again been distinguishing himself 
by carrying out a wounded man under fire. I saw Mr. 
Carmichael, who was full of Ivor and also of Archy. I 
pray their careers may be different. The bare idea of hav- 
ing Archy a soldier would kill me. By the way, I have 
just heard a very private whisper that Ivor and Marjorie 
are engaged — secretly if you please. I wouldn’t have be- 
lieved it of her. I wonder if the general knows, and if so 
how he likes it.” 

Fortunately Mr. Buchanan did not notice the agitation 
of his son on reading this announcement. 


CHAPTER IX 


Presently all knew how the general liked it. Re- 
turning contentedly after his happy achievement, Mr. 
Buchanan found Aberfourie in a tumult of excitement. 
The whisper sent to Edinburgh by his wife had travelled 
and grown till it became a full-grown report, and that wax- 
ing, in turn reached the general’s ear with all the force of 
indubitable fact. It came upon him in the form of respect- 
ful congratulations from Peter, the gardener, and the re- 
sponse was such that the newsvendor almost collapsed. 
Peter’s own graphic account of the incident must be pre- 
served. 

“ I told him in my very best manner,” he related one 
evening in the Inver Arms ; “ and afore the last word was 
out of my mouth, he was on me like a bear. ‘ How long 
have you known this ? ’ says he, glowerin’, as if he could 
have jumped on me. ‘ Maybe a matter of six months, 
sir,’ says I. ‘Six months,’ says he, ‘and ye’ve kept it to 
yourself all that time. Are you hermetically sealed,’ says 
he, ‘ that you keep secrets so tight ? ’ I tried to make a 
joke o’ that, but it was no jokin’ matter. ‘ What you de- 
serve is court-martial for dinner with cat-o’-nine-tail sauce,’ 
says he, ‘ and I’ve seen the day I’d have given ye it.’ That 
was my thanks for bein’ ceevil. I was dry, too, and damn 
a drop o’ drink, though a barrel of ale was broached that 
very morning. I saw him a while after among the bushes 
just a fair lowe o’ anger and burnin’ tobacco.” 

A whole forenoon, indeed, the general tramped the lawn, 
and tore to and fro among shrubbery in the hope that Mr. 
Carmichael might appear. At last, happening to spy 
Coleena, he called to her : 


215 


2i6 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ I want you to go at once to the manse, and say to Mr. 
Carmichael, with my compliments, that if he’s not particu- 
larly engaged, perhaps he’d do me the honour to have 
luncheon with me. There now, no questions, please.” 

Whereupon Coleena sought out Flora, and the pair made 
for the manse in a high fever of wonder and speculation. 

“ Something’s up, that’s certain,” said Coleena, looking 
exceeding wise. “You should have seen papa’s face.” 

“ Angry ? ” inquired Flora, with a little thrill. 

“Angry?” echoed Coleena. “He just looked at me 
and I had to run.” 

“Yes, he must be angry,” said Flora, with a delicious 
piquancy of sensation. 

Half an hour after they reached the manse the chaplain 
drew near Tigh-an-Eas, his heart beating as if playing him 
into action. The woods were still rich with autumn tints, 
and on his upward way he paused now and again, pretend- 
ing to adore the glory of empurpled beech and olive fir, or 
the grey solitary grandeur of crag and dome. 

It was a grandly refreshing thing, he told himself, to lift 
eye and heart to everlasting summits, that looked forth in 
serene air, high above human fret and worry. When God 
set up the mountains in majesty. He ordained they should 
have neither sons nor daughters, that they should feel 
neither the ecstasy of love nor the pang which belongs to 
fatherhood. The sublime aloofness, the pure, perfect in- 
difference of nature, touched him to a kind of envy. No 
weak bending there, no wish to please, no need to be 
politic. 

In the setting of the noble landscape he did not fail to 
dwell affectionately on his beloved river, the enchanted, 
enchanting stream that had moved the admiration of the 
disdainful Roman. It, too, bore an unconcerned face ; but 
there glimmered a little to its left a monument charged with 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 217 

strangely personal associations, the monument to the Black 
Watch. 

At a familiar angle half-way up he paused for breath, 
leaning over a stone fence. Just below — he had passed 
without noticing it — was the seat on which, on that June 
evening, now, as it seemed, so long ago, he had spied the 
lovers — spied and fled, afraid to break their forbidden bliss. 
The memory of that flight came back to him reproachfully. 
Had he done his duty sternly and ruthlessly then things 
might be easier with him now. Yet — yet he could not, 
would not altogether condemn himself. So taking his 
courage in both hands he turned and climbed with 
quickened step. 

The general received him in the library, which was 
still strewn with the litter of the great book on strategy. 
It appeared the study and practice of strategy was harder 
in the library than the field ; at any rate, the epoch-making 
treatise progressed at a snail’s pace, chiefly, perhaps, be- 
cause the author rarely took it up save when his mind 
chanced to be distracted by other things. Rising from be- 
hind a rampart of books and papers, he seized his friend’s 
hand with even more than the usual cordiality. Whoever 
else failed or gave trouble, absolute trust might be put in 
the chaplain, and the general’s soul delighted in men on 
whom he could trust absolutely. 

“ I want to have a good talk with you,” he said, as he 
had once before said on the same spot. “ It’s good of you 
to come to a quiet luncheon. We’ll eat first, and talk 
afterwards.” 

Only three people sat down to luncheon — the general, 
the adjutant-general, and the chaplain, for Flo and Coleena 
had remained at the manse. Conversation was military 
and spirited. The adjutant-general dilated on Ivor’s war- 
like deeds, the chaplain agreed enthusiastically, and the 


2i8 the eternal quest 

general descanted critically on the conduct of the cam- 
paign in which the hero did so gallantly. There was much 
to criticise, for it seemed the new school of strategists and 
tacticians was in no wise equal to the old. 

‘‘ Doing what they did,” said the general, referring to 
the action in which Ivor had last distinguished himself, 
‘‘ they ought, by all the rules of war, to have been annihi- 
lated — wiped out. Nothing but the incompetence of the 
other side, and the amazing luck of the British, saved 
them.” 

“ Well, James,” put in the adjutant-general, “ in spite 
of all you say. I’m proud of my nephew — very proud. I 
hope he’ll soon be back to us.” 

“ He’ll be a fool if he is, Jane,” was the response. 

Jane turned sweetly to the chaplain. 

‘‘ My brother the general can be very agreeable,” she 
remarked. 

“ I don’t know about that, Jane,” interpolated the 
general, ‘‘ but he has always liked to speak the truth. I 
grant you the wonderful knowledge of women, but they 
don’t know everything, especially about the army. One 
of the things they don’t know is that the young soldier who 
once gets on the active list and returns home while there’s 
a chance of fighting — that is, of promotion — is assuredly a 
fool.” 

“You bloodthirsty wretch ! ” cried Jane in rebuke. 

“Unfortunately,” owned the general, “the soldier who 
is a soldier and not a tailor’s dummy must wade to stars 
and ribbons through blood ; and while I am far from saying 
that a great soldier must also be a great butcher, still the 
man who wants to rise in the army outside Pall Mall must 
not object to a little slitting of veins. That’s why Ivor 
would be a fool to return while there’s fighting to be had 
abroad. For it’s God’s truth, Jane, that but for the train- 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 219 

ing our army receives from the enemy it would be good for 
nothing but ornament. If Ivor shows any disposition to 
return, Pll hint that we don’t want him.” 

He glanced significantly at the chaplain, then looked at 
the adjutant-general. 

“ If you will excuse us, Jane,” he said, “ Mr. Carmichael 
and I will finish our wine in the library.” 

So the wine was carried thither, and the pair settled into 
big chairs, their countenances expressing a singular mixture 
of ease, diffidence, and uncertainty. Pipes were lit, and 
presently from the depth of a blue haze the general came 
to business. 

‘‘ It was good of you to come to me, Colin,” he said, 
with obvious effort, “ for I wanted particularly to see you. 
What story is this that’s going about ? ” 

The chaplain pulled desperately at his pipe as the best 
way of preparing a lucid and satisfactory answer. 

“Story ? ” he queried, wondering if the general’s quick 
ear detected the beating of his heart. 

“ We’re very old friends, Colin,” said the general. 

“ I’m proud to think it,” responded Mr. Carmichael. 

“ No prouder than I am,” rejoined the general, between 
terrific pulls. “ I think that to have the friend of one’s 
youth in one’s age is to be especially favoured of heaven. 
We know each other long enough and well enough now 
to dispense with formalities.” 

The chaplain nodded vigorously. 

“ Yes,” continued the general, “ it seems there’s a story 
going about that concerns us. I’ll tell you exactly how it 
reached me. I was in the garden this morning looking at 
some late apples, and Peter, who knows every old wife’s 
tale and bit of scandal in the place, took it on himself to 
offer me congratulations on the engagement of Ivor and 
Marjorie. I’ll confess to you no enemy ever knocked the 


220 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

wind out of me so quickly and completely as my own gar- 
dener offering congratulations, for I knew nothing of this 
reported engagement. Did you, Colin ? ” 

To this pointed question it was a profound relief to Mr. 
Carmichael to return a simple negative. It was not in- 
cumbent upon him to state what he suspected, nor, indeed, 
was the time opportune for explanations. The direct 
scriptural method of ‘‘ Yea ” and ‘‘ Nay ” sufficed for 
all the calls of truth, and saved honour and conscience 
besides. 

The general sat erect, his brows puckered, but rather 
humorously than angrily. 

“What did I tell you, Colin?” he cried. “Young 
people have strange ways with them nowadays, and it ap- 
pears my son and your daughter have been pleasing them- 
selves about falling in love, and getting engaged, and all the 
rest of it. We sit still, Colin, and let the devil make this 
brew for us.” 

He took a gulp of wine, for his mouth was singularly 
and unaccountably dry. 

“You’ll perhaps remember,” he added, “that we went 
into this matter once before.” 

“ I remember perfectly,” said Mr. Carmichael. 

“ Very well. The decision then was, I think, that in 
their own interests the young people should be told not to 
fall in love, pledge, plight, and so forth, and that we, as 
their natural guardians and governors, should exercise our 
authority. We did — I recall now that my efforts with Ivor 
were not quite so successful as could be wished. He did 
not rebel. The army discipline came in there. Had he 
refused or defied I could and would have dealt with him 
summarily. He simply — it all comes back to me now — he 
simply bowed and walked out, the rascal, leaving me to im- 
agine anything I liked. And having by such tactics dis- 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 221 

posed of me, by all appearance he went and did precisely 
the forbidden thing. Pm not ashamed of my blood, Colin, 
but there’s a little too much Malcolm in that boy. Pm 
afraid.” 

“We mustn’t forget we once had the luck to be young 
ourselves,” smiled Mr. Carmichael. 

“ I know what you’re at, Colin,” said the general 
quickly ; “ I shall never forget I was once young and in 
love. God forbid ! You were mixed up with the Mal- 
colm love affairs even then ; and the responsibility, greatly 
increased, is passed on by another generation. Oh, I don’t 
forget that, like a reckless schoolboy, I once struck Pru- 
dence full in the face, knocked her down, and passed over 
her prostrate form ; nor do I forget that you stood by me. 
I was both headlong and headstrong : rub it in, Colin, rub 
it in. I was desperately in love, and I was a Malcolm ; so 
I naturally took my own way. A deal of water has run 
under bridges since; and many things I regret, Colin, but 
that one thing I don’t.” 

“You have no reason for regret,” said the chaplain 
softly. “ But doesn’t it sometimes happen that we are 
disposed to be less lenient, less chivalrous, if you like, with 
our children than with ourselves ? ” 

“ Another of your home thrusts, Colin,” laughed the 
general. “ But you’ll observe it’s not a case of leniency or 
chivalry one way or another. We elders know that by 
the grace of heaven and our own ingenuity we managed to 
scrape through this or that difficulty, often by the skin of 
our teeth. We have no guarantee that our children, in 
similar circumstances, would have similar luck. That’s the 
rub. Every father takes a thousand risks from which he 
would save his child. Knowing how narrowly we escaped 
shipwreck ourselves, we look with fear and trembling on 
our successors steering among the reefs and breakers. But 


222 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 


perhaps, after all, we’re going too fast in taking gossip for 
gospel. Our first business is to verify or dispose of the 
stories that are going about.” 

“ And if we should find them true ? ” asked the chaplain, 
striving valiantly to be calm. 

“ Then we know our duty,” returned the general, “ that’s 
all. I think I can see, Colin, it will be harder for you than 
for me.” 

“ Oh, never mind that !” cried the chaplain. “We’ve 
done our duty before now, I hope.” 

The general rose, his face suddenly alight with pleasure. 

“ And if need be we’ll do it again,” he rejoined blithely. 
“ I’m sure we’ll do it again.” 


CHAPTER X 


In his goings to and fro about the world, the chaplain 
had performed many a hard duty j but never, he felt, one 
so trying as this which was now laid upon him. On re- 
turning to the manse he found that the young people had 
gone out. Flora and Coleena having carried off Marjorie 
on an expedition of their own. His wife, who read his 
face like a watch dial, cried out in alarm, asking what was 
wrong. 

“ Come, and Fll tell you,” he answered, and led the way 
to the study. He placed his best chair for her, and locked 
the door to prevent intrusion. Then he stood against the 
mantelpiece like one fighting, with his back to the wall. 
His wife waited in growing trepidation, for in all their 
married life she had never seen him behave thus. 

“ Will you excuse me, dear, if I smoke ? ” he asked. 

He could, of course, smoke; but would he make haste 
and tell her the reason for that white, troubled face ? 

“ I never saw such a look in it before,” she declared. 

He lifted his eyes from the tobacco pouch, and they met 
hers. 

“IPs never had cause,” he returned. “Sit still, dearie,” 
(he used his favourite diminutive soothingly) — “sit still, 
dearie, and Fll tell you.” 

“ You haven’t quarrelled with the general ? ” she 
asked at a venture, thinking nothing else could so disturb 
him. 

“ No,” he replied slowly, “ I haven’t quarrelled with 
the general. But I might have quarrelled with him. My 
dear, when God sent us our child. He sent us a thing 

223 


224 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

which, from the very love we bear it, is to harrow our 
hearts/* 

“ Then it’s about Marjorie ? ” said Mrs. Carmichael, 
with a sinking of the heart. 

“ Yes, it’s about Marjorie, and let me begin by saying 
I’m a great culprit, a very unworthy husband and father.” 

“ That’s not true, dearie,” was the emphatic answer. 

“ Oh, it is true. But if you listen. I’ll tell you all now.” 
He straightened himself as for a great effort. “ Perhaps 
you have yourself guessed there was something between 
Marjorie and Ivor ? ” he began. 

“ I suspected — a little. That’s all.” 

“ Yes, yes. A woman, of course, has eyes for these 
things. I might not have guessed, but as it happened I 
knew.” 

“ Knew ? ” cried his wife. “ And you never told me. 
Oh, Colin.” 

It was out before she could check herself. He bowed 
his head, making a gesture for peace and forgiveness. 

“ You have just cause to be angry with me,” he 
admitted. 

“ But I’m not angry with you, dear,” she protested, 
eager to take back her words. 

“Well, anyway I knew,” the minister went on with 
a twitching face, “and this is how I found out. Early 
in the summer I happened one day to go to Tigh-an-Eas 
and the general cried out he never was so glad to see me, 
because he had something very particular to say to me. 
Well, to make a long story short, the something particular 
was that Ivor and Marjorie were making up and that at all 
hazards they must be kept apart — prevented from joining 
poverty to poverty was his way of putting it — and that we, 
that is, he and I, must do it. He was my commanding 
officer, Ivor was his son, and whatever I might think to 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 225 

myself my duty was to obey. It was decided we should 
take action at once and together. He did j I didn’t ; and 
because I didn’t he failed.” 

“You don’t mean they’re promised to marry?” cried 
his wife, her interest becoming acute. 

“ I think that’s the only construction possible,” he re- 
plied. 

“And Marjorie never told me — me, her mother,” said 
Mrs. Carmichael reproachfully. 

“ When you have heard all you’ll forgive her,” he an- 
swered, striving to compose himself. “ It was agreed, as 
I said, that the general and I should each in his own 
house forbid the — the falling in love. Never mind my feel- 
ings : the thing had to be, and I wasn’t the man to let my 
child be a stumbling-block and a rock of offence to any 
one. From this time forth I’ll judge my fellow sinners 
with more charity, for I have discovered, dear, that it’s 
easy to be perfect in the absence of temptation. ‘ Lead us 
not into temptation.’ What worlds and worlds these words 
cover ! ” he cried in self-reprehension. 

“ I don’t understand,” said his wife, consternation creep- 
ing into her face. 

“ I’ll tell you,” he went on in a breathless rush. “ If I 
hadn’t fallen into temptation, I shouldn’t have to tug at 
your heartstrings now. But let me explain and be done. 
I left Tigh-an-Eas seeing my duty clear, and resolved to 
do it — no matter at what cost. Well, as I came down 
through the woods on that lovely June evening I leaned 
over a stone wall. As I mused a murmur of voices came 
to me and I looked down, and there were Ivor and Mar- 
jorie, side by side on the seat at the bend of the path. 
My heart fairly stopped at sight of them, and then went 
off at the gallop. I watched them like a spy — I couldn’t 
help it — and as I watched, Ivor bent towards Marjorie. 


226 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

Did I doubt what he was saying ? I thought he was going 
to kiss her, but instead she turned quickly — ay, with the 
quickness of love — and kissed him.” 

Mrs. Carmichael rose, as if drawn by an invisible power. 

“ Kissed him ? ” she repeated in a tense voice. “ That 
— that was most improper.” 

“Oh no, I assure you it wasn’t,” her husband replied. 
“ There was not so much as a suggestion of the improper 
or immodest in it. I looked particularly for that. She 
kissed him, and his arms were about her. I thought my 
eyes would have burned out for spying upon them. For 
a little I forgot I was her father, because my whole soul 
was wrapped up in her loveliness, and what do you think 
flashed upon me ? ” 

“ I cannot guess.” 

“ Oh, you might. The memory of a kiss which her 
mother gave me when we sat as they sat then.” 

“ But we were engaged, you know,” said Mrs. Carmi- 
chael, blushing as if she were still the girl of twenty years 
before. 

“ And I make no doubt that if vows can engage they 
were engaged too,” rejoined the minister. “ I tell you it 
was a sacred sight. I couldn’t break in upon them, so I 
fled, coming home by another way. You may remember 
the night. Ivor came in with her and Archy followed, and 
I couldn’t write my sermon.” 

“I remember it,” said Mrs. Carmichael, as if dazed with 
wonder. 

“ I have yet something more to tell,” pursued the min- 
ister, as if in haste to unburden his soul. “ That night 
both Ivor and Archy asked me for Marjorie’s hand. I 
didn't tell you, dear,” he went on yet more quickly, as if 
fearing an interruption, “ because the whole thing was 
futile. I put Archy off with a jest about midsummer mad- 


227 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

ness, but in my heart, God knows there was no jesting. I 
was obliged to answer Ivor also with a ‘ No,’ and ever 
since I have been doing the two hardest things in the world 
to a man of my temperament.” 

“ What are they, dearie ? ” 

The question was asked with a tenderness that made the 
answer the more poignant. 

“ Keeping my mouth shut and hoping against hope,” he 
replied ; “ waiting, like the idiot in the tale, for something 
to turn up that would alter matters. But fate has declined 
to play into my hand, and it is necessary to do what, if 
hard at first, is excruciating now.” 

“You mean that any engagement there may be must be 
broken off? ” his wife asked. 

He nodded. 

“ Then,” said Mrs. Carmichael, with a note of anguish 
she could not suppress, “ Marjorie loses both. I wish you 
had told me, dearie. I — I might have done something to 
guide her.” 

“You would not have been blind and stupid as I was,” 
he rejoined ruefully. “ But you must not blame Marjorie 
too much. What will not a woman do for the man who 
wins her heart, short of risking her immortal soul ? Ay, 
she’ll even risk that. We know what love is, dearie. 
Should our child not know also ? And my reading of the 
situation is this : Ivor, finding his father against the match, 
has asked her to say nothing, and she, in the loyalty of her 
pure heart and conscience, has obeyed. That must be the 
reason for her silence. ‘ One day,’ she has likely told her- 
self, ‘ all will be well, and then I’ll tell my joy.’ The hope 
of that day was the cause of my silence also. I am pun- 
ished — because if at first duty meant a stripping of my own 
heart, it now means a cleaving in two.” 

“Perhaps,” suggested his wife, “you are taking an ex- 


228 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

treme view. The general may not be so much in earnest 
as you think.” 

To the awakened mother dazzled by a momentary hope, 
a great possibility, it seemed on the instant incredible that 
any man should be so cruel as to sunder young hearts made 
for each other. 

Her husband looked at her in pity. 

“ The general,” he said slowly, “ means what he says, 
and is not the man to abandon a resolution. I have been 
with him in almost every circumstance that can try a man, 
and I have never yet found him going back on himself. 
He has left the next move to me — to us — which is to make 
Marjorie break olF at once and forever whatever engage- 
ment or understanding may exist between herself and 
Ivor.” 

“ I find it hard to take it all in,” said Mrs. Carmichael 
helplessly. “ It has been so sudden and unexpected. But 
I can see it will be a terrible blow to Marjorie.” 

“ A terrible blow,” assented the minister, “ both to her 
and to us. This is what comes,” he cried in an agony of 
self-reproach, “ of shrinking and shirking. Neglected duties 
sting like scorpions. If it would have hurt Marjorie at 
first, it will hurt her doubly, trebly, now. My only hope 
is in herself, her common sense, her force of character, her 
feeling for duty, in which I have failed so miserably and 
tragically. And that brings me to the point for which I 
have tortured you, my dear. You must deal with her. 
You must tell her the stories that are going about, though 
she has probably heard them, and you must be very explicit 
about the general’s orders and state of mind.” 

“ But, Colin, you’ll do that yourself? ” returned his wife. 

“No, no,” he cried. “You must do it. I’m a coward 
and should run away at the first look of pain. It’ll not be 
so hard for you. First find out — that is, get her own word 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 229 

for it that there really is an engagement — then you may say 
that the stories which are going about have very much 
pained and surprised you, seeing you knew nothing of their 
subject. You know that’s true, dear,” he added feverently 
— “ that is true : you didn’t know. And then you can get 
in about the general’s amazement and anger and all that. 
You can convince and console her as I couldn’t. Your 
judgment is worth ten of mine. You’ll do this for me, 
dearie ? ” 

He ended in the tone of appeal which overwhelms when 
made by the stronger nature to the weaker. His wife’s 
breast heaved painfully, but her head was clear. 

‘‘ If you wish me, I will,” she answered simply. He 
took her hand, as in gratitude for the lifting of a great 
weight from his heart, and together they moved to the 
window. Below them the Tay shone in the afternoon sun, 
and higher up brooded in deep peace the clustering woods 
and hills. They looked up instinctively, then their eyes 
fell again, and Mrs. Carmichael gave a start. 

“ There’s Marjorie,” she cried excitedly — “ there’s Mar- 
jorie.” 


CHAPTER XI 


To brace for the ordeal Mrs. Carmichael hid in her own 
room, where she had recourse to a woman’s tonic and al- 
leviative. Entering presently in search of her, Marjorie 
was alarmed by the sight of tears and ran forward open- 
armed to comfort. 

“ What’s the matter ? ” she asked tenderly ; and as her 
mother did not answer immediately : “ Tell me what’s the 

matter.” 

Mrs. Carmichael dabbed her eyes, stifling a sob. 

“I must wash my face before answering,” she said. 

“ I’ll wash it, mother, dear,” cried Marjorie, seizing a 
sponge. “ I never knew any one on whom a cry leaves 
such marks as on you,” she added. 

“ I shouldn’t have cried,” responded Mrs. Carmichael. 
“ It’s foolish.” 

“ Oh, don’t say that. A cry is very refreshing,” said 
Marjorie, with an air of wisdom. “ I often have one by 
myself.” 

Her mother looked hard at her out of shining eyes. 

“ You often have one ? ” she said slowly. 

“Yes,” rejoined Marjorie. “ It’s a strange thing, crying. 
If you’re very sorry, it’s the natural thing; if you’re very 
glad, it’s the natural thing also. It seems to be a kind of 
safety-valve for the escape of excess emotion. I’m sure I 
don’t know what we should do without such a resource. 
There now, you look like yourself again. Sit down and 
tell me whether it is gladness or grief.” 

“I’m afraid it’s not gladness,” was the melancholy 
reply. “Take a chair and sit beside me. I didn’t want 
230 


231 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

you to catch me in tears, and yet I don’t regret you 
did. For I’ve been hearing stories, dear, and they concern 
you.” 

Marjorie’s face turned as ^vhite as the coverlet on the 
bed. 

“ Stories about me ? ” she said, her breath coming quick 
and hard. 

‘‘Yes, about Ivor and you.” 

“ What are they ? ” Marjorie demanded, striving to be 
composed. 

“ It’s reported you and he are engaged,” said her mother, 
watching the effect. “ Is that true, dear ? ” 

“ Who says that ? Whose business is that ? ” 

Marjorie’s lips closed on the words in a fiery resent- 
ment. 

“ It is common report,” was the answer. “ Tell me, 
dear, is it true ? ” 

The colour surged back into Marjorie’s face, and for 
a moment it seemed she refused to answer ; but the next 
she was on her knees before her mother. 

“ Will you keep it a secret if I tell you ? ” she asked, 
looking up with supplicating eyes. 

Mrs. Carmichael stroked the glossy black hair, her every 
nerve and fibre trembling in sympathy. 

“ I am your mother, dear,” she said ; “ you might trust 
me.” 

“ Then I will.” 

Marjorie gathered herself as for a life and death effort. 

“ We are engaged. That is,” she went on with desperate 
rapidity, “ I’ve promised to wait for him.” 

“And you never thought it worth your while to tell 
me,” rejoined Mrs. Carmichael in gentle reproach. “ I 
was the last to learn.” 

For answer, Marjorie buried her face in her mother’s 


232 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

lap, sobbing repentantly. She put out a hand, which her 
mother clasped soothingly. 

“ Forgive me. I didn’t mean to keep it from you,” 
Marjorie said presently, lifting her head. “ A hundred 
times Fve been on the point of telling you, and something 
always prevented me. It was impossible ; I couldn’t.” 

‘‘ Tell me why you couldn’t, dear ? ” her mother asked 
softly. 

Marjorie turned up a wet, pleading face. 

“ Because,” she gasped — “ because he asked me not to. 
I told him I would, and he said, ‘ No, not yet — not yet. 
I’m going away, and there’ll be plenty of time.’ ” 

Mrs. Carmichael stroked the glossy hair yet more ten- 
derly. 

“ He said there would be plenty of time ? ” she repeated. 

“Yes, mother, dear; and you don’t imagine I would 
keep it from you but at his express request.” 

“ No, dear,” assented Mrs. Carmichael. She knew what 
a woman would do for a man, and could neither be angry 
nor censorious. “ Of course,” she added, “ he would give 
you some reason for keeping the engagement secret ? ” 

“ Yes — oh yes,” answered Marjorie, eager to exonerate 
the absent. “ The reason was that the general didn’t wish 
him to be diverted in any way from his profession — as if a 
man couldn’t have a sweetheart and be a good soldier,” she 
laughed tremulously. “ As to marrying, we can both wait 
a while.” 

“ He mentioned the opposition, of his father, then ? ” 

Something in the tone made Marjorie stare very hard. 

“ Why do you say that ? ” she asked. 

“ Because, dear, he has heard, and is very angry.” 

“ Heard and is very angry ? ” repeated Marjorie, her fear 
quivering in her voice. 

“ Yes ; I think it best to be plain and direct with you,” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 233 

returned her mother quietly. “ As you know, your father 
has been to luncheon at Tigh-an-Eas, and the general 
told him what tales are going about, asked him to discover 
if they were true, and in case they are, to say to you he 
expects the engagement to be broken off at once.” 

From Marjorie’s expression the intimation might have 
been her death sentence. 

“ Then I’m to give him up ? ” she gasped, as in terror. 
“ The general can’t mean that.” 

“ I’m afraid, dear, he does mean it,” her mother answered 
gently. 

“ What would you have done, mother, supposing you 
had been ordered to give up father ? ” Marjorie cried, her 
features wrung with a sudden despair. 

“ I don’t know, dearie ; I cannot tell. Perhaps I’d have 
died. I wasn’t asked.” 

Marjorie pressed closer, clasping her mother’s knees, 
acute anguish in the upturned face. 

“ Then you’ll understand,” she cried passionately. 
“Mother, mother, I cannot give up Ivor. There is 
nothing else in all the world I wouldn’t do for you and 
father and the general. But mother, darling, you’ll not 
ask me to do that — say you’ll not ask me.” 

She clutched tighter, as if to wring out the promise she 
wanted. Her mother bent forward and pressed a kiss on 
her forehead. 

“ Do you like Ivor very much, dearie ? ” 

The question was put very softly, but Marjorie flushed 
like a detected criminal. She had been driven so hard 
that she forgot herself, and made confession in a wild 
appeal. 

“ He is good, and noble, and brave,” she replied, nes- 
tling closer to the heart of sympathy. “ And I would die 
for him.” 


234 the eternal QUEST 

Her mother regarded her with a great compassion. 

‘‘ He is all you say,” she assented — “ he is everything 
you say.” 

Marjorie clasped the bent neck and showered kisses on 
the white face. Her mother, who loved and could under- 
stand, was coming to her aid. Together they would fight 
for Ivor, and she should not be asked to make a heart- 
breaking renunciation. On this current of passion Mrs. 
Carmichael broke in with a question. 

“ Are you quite sure you know yourself, dear ? It 
sometimes happens,” she explained in reply to Marjorie’s 
look of astonishment, “that girls — and you are very 
young yet, darling — mistake their own feelings in such 
matters. They imagine things only to discover, perhaps 
when too late, that they were mistaken. It is a great 
responsibility to — to fall in love and marry.” 

If Marjorie had been told that the sun was turned to ice 
or ice to fire, her look could not have expressed greater 
amazement. 

“ I am not mistaken,” she answered, with conviction. 

“ Possibly there may be some one else for whom you 
care almost equally well,” suggested her mother — “ Archy 
Buchanan, for instance. I rather think he is fond of you, 
and he is to be your father’s successor, you know. 
Wouldn’t you like to be your mother’s successor ? ” 

Marjorie drew back, her dark eyes flashing. 

“ Tell me,” she said, “ is Archy, too, mixed up in the 
stories which gossips are telling ? ” 

“ No, I think not.” 

“Then why do you bring up his name now ? Mother, 
there is something under this reference. What is it ? ” 

“This is a day of secrets,” was the answer; “I’ll tell 
you one, dear. On the same night — a night you have 
cause to remember — Ivor and Archy both asked your father 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 235 

for your hand. You see,” with a nervous laugh, “you arc 
a much-prized young lady.” 

Marjorie rose to her feet, an expression of blank aston- 
ishment on her face. 

“ And I knew nothing of this,” she said. “ I seem to 
exist in a coil of mystery.” 

“ And I didn’t know until to-day,” returned her mother. 

Marjorie’s eyes opened a little wider. She was losing 
fear in amazement. 

“ Didn’t father tell you, even if he shouldn’t tell me ? ” 
she asked. 

“ As your father,” explained Mrs. Carmichael, “ had to 
say ‘ No ’ to both, he thought it best to keep a disagreeable 
thing to himself. Has Archy never spoken to you on the 
subject ? ” 

The pointed question brought Marjorie back to reality. 

“ Oh yes,” she stammered in a blushing confusion. “ He 
plagued me both in Edinburgh and at home.” 

“ And what did you say to him ? ” 

“ What father said to him.” 

Mrs. Carmichael sighed. 

“ I think Archy a good honest fellow,” she remarked, 
“ and your father has a high opinion of his abilities. I’m 
afraid you may have treated him unkindly.” 

“ I tried not to be unkind,” Marjorie assured her. 
“ He’s a good hearted fellow, and I like him — but ” 

“But he’s not Ivor,” said Mrs. Carmichael, smiling 
sadly. 

“ I have told you all,” cried Marjorie, again dropping 
on her knees. “ And, mother, dear, you’ll take my part, 
won’t you ? I’ll wait as longs as the general likes, as 
long as you like, as long as anybody likes, but you’ll not 
ask me to give him up.” 

“ It doesn’t lie with me, darling,” was the answer. “ The 


236 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

general and your father are the judges. I am powerless. 
I think the wisest course is for you to make up your mind 
to obey them.*" 

“ Oh, mother, not that, not that,** cried Marjorie, a hor- 
rible fear coming back on her, “ anything but that.** She 
pressed closer, lifting a pallid, beseeching countenance. 
Mrs. Carmichael looked into the strained eyes, and she 
ached and trembled in pity. She had herself loved, and 
her love had been blessed. How could she deny her 
daughter the only thing that gave mortals a taste of 
heaven on earth ? Call it cowardice if you will, but her 
one desire now was to get away from those devouring, 
agonised eyes. 

“ ril talk to your father,** she said, in a kind of gasp. 
“ That*s all I can promise now.** 

She rose, sighing heavily. Marjorie also rose, but in 
her face shone a vivid hope and gratitude. 


CHAPTER XII 


The hope that she had made a partisan of her mother 
and would win thrilled tumultuously in Marjorie’s breast, 
till she was summoned to her father in the study. Then it 
died suddenly, for the greeting made it clear Mr. Car- 
michael meant to be done with a painful business quickly. 
He was, indeed, the more determined that he doubted his 
own nerve. To the account of the interview between 
mother and daughter he listened without comment; but 
when his wife had told her tale, he said : 

“ It will be best that she come to me at once. Will you 
stay ? ” 

The bare suggestion was like an invitation to look on at 
an execution, so Mrs. Carmichael fled, and Marjorie was 
summoned. She obeyed promptly, as was her wont when 
a request came from her father, and a simulated pleasure 
pathetic to behold. 

“You wanted me, father ? ” she said, smiling. 

“ Yes, dear, come and sit down,” he replied. 

Many and many a day it had been her highest delight to 
be invited to that room, and permitted to cuddle in a big 
chair with a book, while her father wrote or read beside 
her. That honour she prized to the extent of much 
boasting ; he, too, was pleased, calling her “ chum ” and 
“ sweetheart ” ; and as she grew up, and came and went, 
imbibing various knowledge, and heart and brain expanded, 
they seemed to draw closer and closer together. When she 
came from Edinburgh on holidays, her first free moment 
was for the study, where she ranged joyously through the 
old favourites, dusting, dipping into them, and longing for 

237 


238 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

the chance to read them all over again. For her father led 
her through realms of gold little dreamed of in young 
ladies’ seminaries. By the aid of text-books she took 
prizes which enabled a certain head-mistress to point with 
a profitable pride to the splendid success of the pupils of a 
certain academy ; but the real education took place at her 
father’s side, and as she increased in stature and understanding, 
developing traits and talents, the minister divined with 
mingled awe and gladness that here, under the guise of 
frocks and a different sex, was a duplicate of himself, head 
and heart exact. Wherefore he gave her much of his time, 
so that there grew up between them a feeling of boon com- 
radeship which sweetened many an hour to both. Now 
they were thrown on the rack together, and each knew that 
the other suffered exquisitely. 

“ I have sent for you, Marjorie,” her father said, with 
an ominous gravity of countenance, “ because I want to 
have a talk with you. There is no need to beat about the 
bush. Your mother has already spoken to you about cer- 
tain things that are troubling us, and I’ll just begin where 
she left off. You know,” he proceeded, his accents, as it 
seemed to the listener, terrible as a judge’s in summing up 
— “ you know the stories that are going about. They have 
made the general very angry, and he has desired me to say 
to you that you must drop all correspondence with Ivor, 
and be as if certain things had never been.” 

There was a wild beating in Marjorie’s head which 
turned this speech to nonsense. How could she be as if 
certain things had never been, as if Ivor had never said he 
loved her, and she had never promised to be his wife ? 
Her father, a man of sense, was at last speaking the utterly 
absurd and impossible. 

“You understand ? ” he asked. 

The question rallied her buzzing faculties. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 239 

“ Yes — oh yes,” she answered, in a burning confusion. 
“ Do you wish it, father ? ” she added the next instant, 
bending towards him as in a kind of desperate hope. 

What I might or might not wish doesn’t matter,” was 
the reply. “ The general wishes it. He is Ivor’s father 
and my old commanding officer, and has a right to expect 
obedience.” 

“But, father,” she cried, “you haven’t answered me. 
Do you wish it — yourself— apart from any one else ? ” 

His eyes as he looked at her were full of pained com- 
passion ; but his speech was harsh. 

“I — I wish it too,” he said, as if plucking the words 
from the bottom of his heart. 

For half a moment it seemed that Marjorie was swoon- 
ing, but the next she leaped up, a fiery indignation lighting 
her face. 

“ The general and you are both cruel,” she cried — “ both 
cruel.” 

He waited a moment for the spasm to pass, and was glad 
to see her eyes moistening. That was a good sign for her, 
however much it might add to his pain. 

“ There are some necessary things which seem cruel,” 
he returned quietly, “ but are not really so. My daughter 
knows I would not be willfully or wantonly cruel with her.” 

Marjorie came down like a winged bird. 

“ Forgive me,” she cried, taking his hand as in supplica- 
tion, “ I ought not to have said that. You are not cruel, 
you never have been cruel.” 

“ Thank you, dear,” he said, looking at her with all the 
fondness of a lover. He be cruel to her ? No, never, but 
— but there was duty : and there was the general. 

“ In certain crises of life,” he went on slowly, “ men 
and women are hurried into actions that may easily become 
tragedies. You have now to consider, dear, whether you 


240 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

have not reached one of those crises. You are very fond 
of Ivor ” 

“ I have two heroes,” she broke in, the tears starting in 
spite of her : “ my father and Ivor. They are alike ; they 
are perfect.” 

He bent forward and kissed her, a great affection well- 
ing in his eyes also. But he strove to control himself. 

“ And Ivor I know is very fond of you,” he pursued. 
“ But it is his misfortune, dear, and yours, to be poor ” 

“ Poor ? ” she echoed, “ poor ? ” tone and look asking 
plainly, “ Must people be rich to love ? ” 

“Now try to be patient,” he responded, “ while I put 
the general’s point of view. He knows — none better — 
what it means to an officer of slender purse to marry a 
portionless girl, and he is naturally anxious to protect Ivor 
from imprudence.” 

“ Then it would be imprudent in Ivor to marry me ? ” 
she remarked, with a flash of the Carmichael pride. 

“ Don’t gallop to wrong conclusions,” he cautioned. 
“Soldiering is one of the most costly of professions. Ivor 
cannot even keep himself on his pay ; how, then, could he 
keep another? Besides, any embarrassment in regard to 
finances would certainly hinder his promotion. Take all 
that into account, and you will find that the general is 
neither so selfish nor so unreasonable as might at the first 
glance appear. You would not like to be a clog on Ivor’s 
progress ? ” 

“ The reverse,” she answered eagerly — “ the reverse.” 

“ I was sure of that,” remarked her father. “ Let me 
say the general loves you almost like one of his own chil- 
dren. He has been good enough to say so. There is but 
one fault, and it is mine, dear.” 

“ Yours ? ” she cried in protest. “ I have seen no fault 
in you.” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 241 

“ There is, all the same,” he persisted — “ the fault, dear, 
of not being able to endow you with a fortune.” 

“ But that is no fault,” she rejoined resolutely. “ I 
wouldn’t be anything or any one else than what I am and 
who I am. And the general is wrong,” she went on 
breathlessly — “ quite wrong if he thinks I should ever con- 
sent to be a burden to Ivor. I would help — just — just as 
mother helps you.” 

“ Sit down, dear,” he said gently. ‘‘ Don’t be excited. 
I don’t need your assurance. But in the big world, Mar- 
jorie, money is the great magician, and you haven’t got it. 
It is best to face facts honestly.” 

“ I thought a woman could help a man without 
money,” she rejoined, feeling as if a grip of steel were on 
her throat. 

“ When we are young,” said her father, ‘‘ we take 
romantic views. Never shall I say that a woman cannot 
help a man without money. But there is yet another con- 
sideration. Suppose you persist and become Ivor’s wife, 
what then I put it to you that my honour and the honour 
of my house is in your hands. I have no one else if you 
fail me. Will you allow the world to say that, for the sake 
of catching Ivor ? ” 

“ Catching Ivor.? ” she cried passionately. “ He would 
know how to deal with any one saying that.” 

“ The bravest man cannot silence slanderous tongues,” 
was the answer. “ The world would express its opinion 
secretly if not openly, and the general would agree — that’s 
the rub, Marjorie — the general would agree, and we could 
never look him straight in the face again. I like to look 
all men straight in the face, to feel that if I cannot show a 
pile of gold I can at least take my stand on honour. So 
far as I know, a Carmichael of my house has never been 
accused of being a self-seeker, never suspected of doing 


242 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

aught that would not bear the light of the sun. Possibly 
our forefathers were wrong j possibly they ought to have 
worshipped Mammon and hoarded gold. But their code 
is my code ; and I ask my daughter, the guardian of my 
honour, not to give the world a chance to sneer and say 
that at last a Carmichael bends the knee like any common 
dealer or usurer of the market-place, and does merely what 
pays.” 

She leaped to him with a cry. 

“ You know I wouldn’t do that,” she said vehemently. 

He put forth a hand and patted her on the cheek. 

“ I thought I was not mistaken, dear,” he replied. 

“ But you forget,” she pleaded, “ that honour may have 
two sides. Which is right, to break my plighted word to 
Ivor, or without protest obey his father ? ” 

It was a crucial question on the minister’s own ground, 
and he did not answer immediately. 

“ Don’t you like Ivor ? ” she demanded, impatient to 
have his verdict. 

“ None can know him without liking him,” he owned. 
“ I, knowing him completely, adore him.” 

“ And — and he is too good for me,” she said, falling back 
with a quivering face. 

“ I would allow no one to say that in my presence,” re- 
turned her father, insensibly drawing himself up. “ It is 
not a question of worth, but of ” 

‘‘ Policy,” she cried, and held her breath. 

“ Policy is a harsh word,” said her father. “ The gen- 
eral merely thinks Ivor ought not to enter into any engage- 
ment now, and I must agree.” 

A shuddering terror came upon her. The minister saw 
it on her face, and went on, as if to comfort her : 

“ No, I would allow no man or woman to say you were 
not good enough. Nor does the general think anything of 


243 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

the sort. But in this world we have to consider what is 
wise and prudent, as well as what may be desirable or 
pleasant. You are very young yet, dear; the world is all 
before you.” 

He seemed to be mocking her, yet she listened quietly. 

“ I want you to be brave,” he said encouragingly. 

“ What do you mean by that ? ” she asked simply. 

“To be true to yourself, dear. You could never be 
happy as Ivor’s wife if you married against the general’s 
wishes. You may say he is an old man and that Ivor and 
you can wait till he is out of the way. Well, that would 
only be making the anguish of remorse worse. Therefore, 
like the girl I know my daughter is, you will empower me to 
write to Ivor, explaining matters and releasing him from his 
pledge. If — if he won’t be released, then the situation 
must be reconsidered.” 

She had the look of one mortally stricken, until she 
heard the last sentence. Then came a change as of dark- 
ness to light. Yes, let the decision be committed to Ivor. 
By his word she would joyfully abide. 

“ Do as you wish,” she said eagerly ; and then before he 
could respond : “ No, I’ll write myself. I should like to 

tell him.” 

“ Very well,” said her father, with a corresponding rise 
of spirits. “ I won’t ask to see what you write, only 
you’ll enable me to tell the general that his wishes are 
obeyed.” 

“ I give you my word on that,” she cried, and ran from 
the room. 


CHAPTER XIII 


The thought of Ivor as arbiter sent up Marjorie’s spirits 
with so 6\7.xy a rebound that for a whole afternoon she 
floated gloriously among clouds. Forced to consider the 
situation narrowly — that is, to put her renunciation into 
black and white — she came headlong to earth again, her 
heart aching bodefully. What was this she was called on 
to do ? To cut out of her life, out of the very core of her 
being as it seemed, the one thing that made her little world 
a paradise. Too rigorously honest to play the casuist either 
to herself or to others, she had to tell her lover frankly 
how the Fates were leagued against them, and to efface 
herself for his sake. Heroes have risen to the height of 
acting as their own surgeons, cutting themselves to save 
themselves. Marjorie was cutting herself to save 
another. 

She sat down to write her message of doom with an 
agonised feeling of double calamity, the calamity of a forced 
disloyalty, and the sacrifice of what she held most precious 
in all the world — the love he gave. In her writing she 
stopped often, half-blinded by tears, to alter and gloze ; but 
to herself the great fact burned as a quenchless fire, despite 
a pretended lightness and hopefulness of tone. Mrs. Car- 
michael, stealing in while she was bent over the letter, broke 
into a gurgle of pity, kissed the stricken face, and ran to her 
husband to report, and plead, even at the eleventh hour, for 
a dram of mercy. 

‘‘ Don't you see it must be done, dear ? ” he responded, 
with a pained expression and a gesture of impatience. “ And 
the quicker it is done the better. I have kept this thing to 
244 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 245 

myself for six months, hoping against hope and making 
matters worse. Marjorie must do what she’s doing. If 
you love her or me, no more pleading.” 

So Marjorie was left to suffer alone, yielding up the great 
prize. It was noon next day before she was able to inform 
her father that the surrender was made, holding up a thick 
packet in proof. 

“ You have done exactly as we wish, dear ? ” he asked 
softly. 

“ I promised, and have kept my word,” was the reply. 

“ Thank you, dear ; you are a brave girl,” he said. He 
meant to say more ; but the words stuck in his throat. 

She stood regarding him with preternaturally big eyes, 
and the listless, absent expression of one whose thoughts 
are far away. 

“ Pm afraid you didn’t sleep well last night, Marjorie,” 
he remarked, touched by the pallor and the pathos of her 
face. 

“ No,” she answered simply, “ I didn’t sleep last night.” 

“ Not at all ? ” he cried, his voice quick with alarm. 

“ No, not at all. I have found, like David of old, that 
the nighttime is a good time for meditation. I think many 
a fine idea is lost because we sleep too much. In the dead 
of night the mind is clearest, if I am to judge by last 
night’s experience. I mention that because I have a favour 
to ask of you. I have done as you wish ; will you now do 
as I wish ” 

“ It depends, dear, on what you ask,” he answered, as- 
suming a lightness he did not feel. 

“ Oh, it is very simple,” she rejoined ; “ merely your 
permission to go away and do something for myself. As I 
am only a girl, I must crave your help; if I were a man, I 
could go and fight for myself.” 

“ Is it necessary you should do something for yourself? ” 


246 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

he asked. “ I have not heard that your mother and I are 
tired of you yet.’’ 

“ Don’t imagine I think any nonsense of that sort,” she 
returned. “ But last night as I lay awake I was thinking 
of soldiers, and all they do and suffer. You know,” she 
went on, her face brightening, ‘‘ I am more than half a 
soldier’s daughter, and 1 have been thinking over all that a 
woman did for our poor men in the Crimea. I should 
like to do something similar if the time ever came to do it. 
That’s what I wish.” 

“ To be a nurse } ” he said. “ I don’t think you know 
what you ask.” 

“ Oh yes,” she replied firmly, “ I know what I ask. I 
hope my father’s teaching and example are not lost on me.” 

‘‘ But, dear, nursing means long and hard training,” he 
explained, “ and with an army in the field is very trying 
and very dangerous.” 

“ The greater the credit, then,” she responded warmly. 
“ I should like to do something even behind the fighting 
line. Will you let me go to Edinburgh and train ? I want 
to be of some use, and I’m not fit for anything else.” 

“You can teach,” he said at a venture. 

“Just as well as I can fly, father, dear,” was the re- 
joinder. “You’ll let me do what I want, and I’ll take 
care you have no cause to regret giving me your permis- 
sion.” 

She was pleading earnestly now, and a man, even a father, 
is at a disadvantage before a pleading woman. 

“ I’ll speak to your mother about it,” he answered, as 
the best means of escape. “ Meantime, we’ll have lunch- 
eon and then I must keep an engagement.” 

The engagement was a self-made one, to tell the general 
that his orders were executed and that Ivor was free. The 
general, seated in the midst of a debris of papers meant 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 247 

for the great book on strategy, beamed at the announcement. 
He heard — what he expected to hear. Once again the 
chaplain had done his duty like a soldier, and he, the com- 
manding officer, would himself finish the business — that is 
to say, he would forthwith send the necessary instructions 
to Ivor. Over that decision the comrades had a cup of 
claret, the general smiling in cosy good humour, and the 
chaplain doing his utmost to appear happy also. 

“ How did she take it ? ’’ inquired the general, lying back 
after a sip. 

“ Oh,” replied Mr. Carmichael, “ I explained your 
wishes to her, and of course she obeyed.” 

“ She’s a trump ! ” said the general emphatically. “ Colin, 
you have the happiness to be the father of one of the best 
and most charming girls in the world. What did I tell you 
about her good sense ? ” 

“You were good enough to praise her good sense,” ac- 
knowledged the father, hoping his uneasiness might not be 
visible in his countenance. 

“ Any one is blind who can’t see that Marjorie’s as sen- 
sible as she’s beautiful,” pursued the general ; “ and — and 
as to this falling in love, why, bless my heart, Colin, it’s as 
natural as breathing. You have Marjorie and you have 
Ivor meeting, going about together : something strikes home 
— a word, a tone, a look — any little thing will do it, and, 
presto ! you have a pair of lovers.” 

Mr. Carmichael took a sip of wine to hide a troublesome 
emotion. 

“ Yes,” continued the general blithely, “ a pair of lovers ; 
and I’m not aware, Colin, that art or nature has anything 
prettier to show. And do you know, I cannot help feeling 
it’s a confounded shame that a couple of old duffers like 
us should nip affection in the bud. Damme, Colin, it’s 
unfair.” 


248 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ It's duty,” said the chaplain. 

“ It’s duty,” repeated the general. “ I assure you noth- 
ing else would make me act the part of a reprehensible old 
curmudgeon. But you know it is no fun being the wife 
of a penniless soldier. By the way, do you think Marjorie 
feels — well, a little bit lonely and depressed ? ” 

“ I rather fancy she does,” replied Mr. Carmichael. 

The general rang his bell. 

“ Send Miss Coleena to me,” he told the servant who 
answered. And when Coleena tripped in, bright with 
curiosity : “ I’m sorry to learn that Marjorie’s out of sorts 
to-day. You might go and cheer her up. Let Flo go, too, 
if she likes.” 

‘‘That’s too much trouble,” protested Mr. Carmichael, 
imagining Marjorie might prefer to be alone. 

“Trouble?” cried the general. “We’ll have no talk 
of trouble, if you please. Coleena, dear, go at once, and 
see that you behave properly.” 

It chanced that Flora was busy for her aunt, the adjutant- 
general, whose orders were stringent, therefore Coleena 
went alone, rejoicing greatly, and wondering what could be 
the matter. She found Marjorie in the study, and was 
startled by the white face. 

“You are ill,” cried Coleena, her looks expressing her 
alarm. 

“Oh no, not ill,” returned Marjorie, with a wan smile, 
“ only thinking a little harder than usual. It was good of 
you to look in.” 

“ I’d have come sooner if I had known, but I ran as soon 
as I heard you were not feeling very well.” 

“ Then I suppose father is at Tigh-an-Eas ? ” said Mar- 
jorie. 

Coleena nodded. 

“ In deep confab with my father,” she said. “ I’m not 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 249 

interested in old men’s talk. Tell me, dear, what’s the 
matter.” 

Marjorie’s face quivered as in pain. 

“You certainly are not well,” cried Coleena in deep con- 
cern. “ Won’t you tell me what’s wrong ? ” 

“Yes, dear. I’ll tell you,” answered Marjorie, after a try- 
ing pause. “It’s — it’s a little difficult, but I’ll tell you.” 

Coleena was the only one in Aberfourie to whom she 
had confessed her happiness, and to Coleena she would now 
own her disappointment and grief. 

“ Make yourself comfortable in father’s easy-chair,” she 
said, with a hysterical laugh, “ and listen with all your ears ; 
and you’ll have patience, dear, if I break down ? ” 

Thereupon she told her tale, not without breaks and 
sobs. Coleena listened, her eyes shining first with wonder 
and then with indignation. At the end she leaped up, her 
face flashing in anger. 

“ Will you give me that letter ? ” she demanded hotly. 

“Why, dear ? ” asked Marjorie, trembling at the tempest 
she had raised. 

“ So that I may tear it into little bits and dance on the 
fragments,” was the answer. 

“ That would never do, dear,” rejoined Marjorie. “ The 
general knows better than either of us what is best for 
Ivor.” 

“ I know too,” said Coleena, abating no jot of her wrath. 
“You’re best for him.” 

“ If you say such things, I shall be sorry I told you,” 
said Marjorie. 

“ Be sorry and welcome,” was the rebellious response. 
“For I’m going to speak the truth and I tell you I’m 
ashamed of you for writing that letter. Do you think it’s 
right to go and promise Ivor and then take back your 
promise at a frown ? ” 


250 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ Oh, don’t,” cried Marjorie — “ don’t.” 

“ Well, then, I won’t, dear,” said Coleena softening. 
“ But really and truly, this won’t do at all, and I’m going 
to take papa in hand. See if I don’t make him face 
about.” 

“ He’s accustomed to fighting and winning,” said Mar- 
jorie. 

“ Pagh ! ” cried Coleena. “ He has fought men, but he 
can’t fight women. He quakes if auntie lifts a little finger, 
and I’ve got over him a thousand times myself. And I’m 
going to do it again. If necessary. I’ll write to Ivor my- 
self and tell him to pay no attention either to you or to him, 
because the one’s a donkey and the other’s a bear.” 

She went ofF declaring there would be good news soon, 
and Marjorie, with a flickering hope, re-read the fateful 
letter. She would not post it yet : she would wait — wait 
to see what came of Coleena’s intercession. 


CHAPTER XIV 


In his day the general had sustained many assaults and 
sieges, and had long since mastered the art of being cheer- 
ful in a crisis. Mr. Carmichael had left him, and he was 
again stooping to the work on strategy when Coleena, 
flushed to a radiant crimson, entered hot foot to the attack. 
Raising his head at the uninvited interruption, he met her 
with a look of inquiry. 

“ Well,” he said ; “ back already. You didn't stay 
long. How's Marjorie ” 

“ That's just what I've come to tell you, papa,” she 
answered, with a catch of the breath that might be due 
either to haste or to nervousness. “ Marjorie's ill because 
— because she’s unkindly treated.” 

The general laid down his pen and turned his face full 
upon her. 

“You appear to be excited,” he said coldly. “What's 
the matter ? ” 

Whereupon came the hot, moving tale of Marjorie's 
wrong, with appropriate comment and suggestion. He did 
the perfervid little advocate the honour of listening quietly, 
though with a smile that was not promising. 

“ Upon my word,” he cried in response, on the balance 
between laughter and anger, “ I must congratulate my 
little daughter on her unsuspected gift of eloquence, though 
I cannot but regret she gives the first convincing proof of it 
in upbraiding her father.*' 


251 


252 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ Pm not upbraiding, papa ; Fm only telling the truth,” 
Coleena rejoined stoutly. 

“ See what it is to have an alert intelligence officer. Has 
Marjorie been complaining, then ? ” 

“ Complaining ? ” repeated Coleena, feeling that despite 
her earnestness the course of justice was not running more 
smoothly than the course of love. “ Not a word of com- 
plaint passed her lips, and that’s why ” 

“ See,” he interrupted, “ how much better she under- 
stands her duty than you understand yours. You are giv- 
ing yourself unnecessary trouble. When I asked you to 
call on Marjorie, you will remember I didn’t depute you 
to meddle in my affairs or in hers. I ask if you think 
it quite becoming in a girl who is hardly out of pina- 
fores to lecture her father in matters which as he rather 
suspects she does not understand ? I don’t wish to be 
rude, because I fancy this is just an inadvertence on your 
part — one of those unaccountable aberrations to which the 
youngest and wisest of us are liable.” 

“ But, papa,” she answered, thrilling in wounded pride, 
“ you are acting cruelly — without knowing it, perhaps — but 
cruelly all the same.” 

“ What a fine thing is candour ! ” was the retort. “ I 
compliment you on your zeal, dear. If I were hovering 
anywhere near conviction, be sure your advocacy would 
convince me. And believe me I like to see you making a 
gallant if ill-judged stand for a friend who doesn’t complain 
of any harsh treatment at my hands. But quite between 
ourselves. I’ll tell you something. It is my misfortune to 
be a little older than you are. Before ever Miss Coleena 
appeared on the scene — and I was a proud man the day I 
first kissed her — I had been kicked about the world, and 
taught, not without knocks and blows, by a great school- 
master who hasn’t one iota of sentiment. Well, he got 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 253 

certain notions into my head, and for the life of me I can’t 
get them out again. You may possibly have heard of a 
thing called Experience.” 

Oh yes,” she replied curtly, feeling that she was being 
led whither she knew not. 

“Very well,” pursued her father; “you are lucky to 
know something of Experience. Not every one beginning 
life understands what Experience is.” 

“ Oh, the dictionary will tell you that,” said Coleena, 
with a mighty effort to be cool. 

“ The dictionary is very useful,” was the unruffled re- 
sponse, “ but it does not go very deep. I don’t think it 
tells, for instance, that Experience is a sort of medicine the 
world keeps on hand to destroy illusions, to make rapture 
founded on moonshine ridiculous, and fools of people wise 
in their own conceit ; to prove also, and it never fails in the 
proof, that what we most ardently desire at certain periods 
of life is not always the best for us.” 

“ Oh ! ” ejaculated Coleena, in a kind of defiant gasp. 

“Yes, indeed,” continued her father; “and Experience 
does still more : it teaches us not to rush to conclusions, 
nor to imagine the world is going to wreck because we 
happen to be a little depressed and out of sorts ; and it 
shows beyond dispute that on the blackest night that ever 
set the sun rose again. Now heaven in its kindness 
ordained that rather more than an average share of this 
precious thing should fall to me, and in consequence, dear, 
I am not of those who fancy that a momentary pang 
at eighteen or twenty means death. Ergo, fair young 
advocates who try to convince me against the light of 
Experience are merely troubling themselves to no purpose.” 

It was not worth his while to be angry with Coleena. 
She was young, ardent, and irresponsible. Moreover, her 
motive was excellent. In his heart the general could 


254 the eternal QUEST 

almost have pleaded with himself, even as she pleaded, if 
to do that were not to fly in the very teeth of judgment. 
Once for all he had made up his mind that Ivor’s engage- 
ment must be broken, and to that decision he stuck with 
the tenacity which made him what he was. 

At the same time he remembered that he was not carry- 
ing out a battle evolution, in which disregard of other peo- 
ple’s feelings was the first condition of success. ^ By dis- 
position and training he despised the diplomat, the oily, 
insinuating creature whom his country supports at a vast \ 
cost to say what he doesn’t mean and nobody but a fool ^ 
believes. /His own work had always begun when palavering \ 
ended, and he had the soldier’s contempt for crooked, 
roundabout ways.7 Nevertheless, there are fights and fights 
— the fight in which you bring the foe to terms by prompt 
and copious bleeding; the fight in which you win with 
cheerful good-will to the other side. 

To the general the latter mode of warfare was by far 
the more trying. He would not yield — of that he never 
dreamed — but affection and good taste made it imperative 
he should deal gently with his old comrade, more gently 
still with Marjorie and the little partisan sprung, as it 
were, from his own bosom. Hence, at a great disadvan- 
tage, he adopted the playful, half-humorous, half-satirical 
method. Coleena was not disconcerted. Having exhausted 
her little spurt of indignation — which had as much effect, 
she sorrowfully owned, as a squirt of water on a conflagra- 
tion — she fell by instinct into cajolery. 

“ I’m not going to argue,” she said, planting herself 
intrepidly on his knee. “You know so much more than 
I do, and are so much wiser. But indeed, indeed, papa, 
dear, you’re all unfair to Marjorie.” 

The general smiled, as if the assault were less determined 
than he had feared. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 255 

“ How long have you been out of short frocks, my 
dear ? he asked. 

“ Such a question to ask ! ” she returned sweetly. “ A 
long, long time. Four years at least.” 

“ Four years,” he repeated, the corners of his mouth 
twitching in merriment, “ and you come to me as an ex- 
pert in love. Child, where's your doll ? ” 

From that moment he declined to take her seriously. 
For all her subtle arts she got only laughter and raillery, 
laughter with such a sting of mockery in it that at last 
she bounced off in a huff of offended dignity. The general 
did not call her back or rebuke her. On the contrary, 
as the tail of her skirt swept resentfully out, he drew a 
long breath, congratulating himself on a narrow escape. 
He was unfeignedly glad to witness a retreat that left him 
still in possession of the field. 

“Another attack repulsed,” he chuckled, and turned 
contentedly to the book. 

Meanwhile Coleena stormed into the garden as a soothing 
place for a vexed mind, blew up Peter for a fancied derelic- 
tion of duty, and thus relieved, went off to Marjorie to re- 
port, not indeed a defeat, but certainly a reverse. 

“I'll go at him again,” she declared, with something 
of his own battle look. “ Oh, I’m not nearly half done 
yet.” 

“ If you love me, you won’t do anything more,” said 
Marjorie, with a vivid fear of family quarrels. 

“ If you love me, you’ll eat humble pie all the days of 
your life,” retorted Coleena. “ Permit me to take Ivor’s 
part, if not yours.” 

“ I know you are a great deal better to me than I de- 
serve,” said Marjorie; “but ” 

“ If you say absurd things like that,” put in Coleena 
severely, “ I’ll leave you to your fate.” 


256 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ Don’t misunderstand me, dear,” pleaded Marjorie. 
“It is for Ivor’s sake I want peace.” 

“Fudge!” cried Coleena in rebuke. “If he were here, 
do you think he’d want that sort of peace Why he’d 
have you on a crupper and oiF to a priest like a knight of 
old before they could interfere. And I’d ride after to be 
bridesmaid.” 

“You’re very romantic, dear,” said Marjorie, colouring 
a little at the thought of such bravery. 

“ I don’t know about that,” returned Coleena. “ But 
if I had a sweetheart like yours, I’d fight for him, that’s 
all.” 

To Marjorie the bare suggestion to fight the general 
smacked of blasphemy. She grew afraid to meet him, 
though he was chivalrously polite and announced he 
would take it as a mortal offence if she intermitted her 
comings and goings at Tigh-an-Eas. But she was eager 
to be off and doing for herself, eager to get away from 
scenes that constantly reminded her of vanished happiness ; 
and at last her importunity prevailed. One day it became 
known she was leaving, and why ; and Aberfourie roused 
itself for a very piquant sensation. 

Peter, the gardener, who pretended to know “ the hale 
ins and outs of it,” was much in favour at the Inver Arms, 
where he enjoyed a flow of free liquor in exchange for his 
tales of imagination. A man in his cups, says the proverb, 
speaks what is in his heart ; and Peter, warmed by the gen- 
erous toddy, waxed scornfully eloquent on the absurdity of a 
minister’s daughter aspiring to the hand of a general’s son. 
A whisper of this tavern incontinence reaching Tigh-an- 
Eas, there resulted a drumhead court-martial. 

“ I thought I had seen him angry afore,” Peter owned 
to a crony; “but it was fancy, sir, pure fancy. I just 
Stood lookin’ ^t him in a tremmle o’ sweatin’ ^reid.” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 257 

“ Pve heard tell he’s uncanny when his dander’s right 
up,” said the other. 

“ Uncanny ? ” echoed Peter, — “ uncanny ? That’s not 
the word for’t. His face just blazed and lowed till on my 
honour I was thinkin’ o’ Auld Nick and brimstone. That 
eye o’ his was just a point o’ leevin’ fire. God, it was 
afae.” 

“ What did he say to you, Peter ? ” asked the crony, 
moved to a lively interest. 

“ Say to me ? ” cried Peter. “ Man, it would be fair 
impossible to tell you.” 

“ Did he swear ? ” inquired the crony. 

“ It was far worse than any common sweatin’,” answered 
Peter, “ for it was just a kind o’ earthquake and hurricane 
in one — overwhelmin’, that’s what it was, fair dazin’. Miss 
Malcolm, the adjutant-general, as they ca’ her, tried to get 
in a word, but it was no use. He just blazed away the 
more. I was never in all my life so glad to leave the 
presence.” 

Thereafter Peter avoided the Inver Arms, shaking his 
head dejectedly when invited thither to refresh himself in 
the way of friendship. 

“ Mauna,” he would answer woefully — “ mauna. It 
would be as much as my place is worth.” 

“ He’d never ken,” suggested some one. 

“ Ken ? ” cried Peter. “ Man, the way he finds out things 
is fair deevilish. Ye wink yer eye in sleep, and next day 
he can tell ye o’t.” 

To one household at least the sensation was opportune, 
if not grateful. Some quick-witted person had discovered 
that Mr. Buchanan went to Edinburgh not, as was sup- 
posed, on business, but to inquire into his son’s delinquencies. 
Mrs. Buchanan had trembled in awe of a scandal; and in 
truth Archy’s unacademic deeds might havq furnished mat- 


258 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

ter for a whole winter’s gossip had not bigger things blotted 
them from the mind. Bank House, in short, was saved by 
the catastrophe which befell the manse. 

If anything had been wanting to quicken Marjorie’s 
resolution, it was the consciousness, burned into her as by 
an acid at every turn and in a thousand ingenious ways, 
that by the atrocious crime of falling in love with Ivor she 
brought sneers and pity upon her father’s house. As she 
was powerless against the envenomed tongue of calumny, 
there was nothing for it but to get away as quickly as 
might be, and thus relieve her loved ones of a graceless 
and unhappy presence. 

When darkness fell and the streets were quiet on the 
last evening she stole by herself to the post office, and with 
a trembling hand dropped a letter into the box. It was the 
message of renunciation to Ivor. 


CHAPTER XV 


From a fond, unsuspecting mother Archy heard of the 
upheaval in Aberfourie and its consequence; and was 
thrown into a fever which made a walk over the breezy 
Calton an instant necessity. It was distracting to think, 
all but impossible to believe, that the radiant Helen whose 
smile might justify the shedding of heart’s blood was her- 
self among the scorned and rejected. Truly, quoth Archy, 
destiny has unexpected and dramatic ways. He durst not 
say Marjorie deserved this amazing slap in the face from 
the general. He almost pitied her; certainly he pitied her 
father and mother. But would Ivor yield up the prize on 
an arbitrary order ? And if so, should Mr. Archibald 
Buchanan try again ? 

At that question pride was up in a flash. No, never, 
never. He would show her that a man’s heart was not a 
plaything for schoolgirls. At the same time he felt it 
would be best to make a polite call, especially since Mr. 
and Mrs. Carmichael were accompanying Marjorie. He 
could thus see the family en hloc.^ pay his respects becom- 
ingly, dismiss the whole concern from his mind with the 
closing of the door behind him, and return untrammelled to 
his theology. Some day he would preach a startling ser- 
mon on a kind of hell evidently unknown to theologians — 
the lover’s hell; and he chuckled sardonically over that 
crowning sensation. 

“ Eh, Lord ! ” he said to himself, ‘‘ what things there 
are in heaven and earth never dreamed of in the philosophy 
of the ordinary preacher ! ” 

Presently he decided that for pure diversion he would be 

259 


26 o the eternal quest 

at the station when Marjorie’s train arrived, and with an 
air of high indifference saunter up and down where she 
must see him, though, by an artful blindness, he would not 
see her. If there chanced to be a dashing damsel of the 
kind that does not stand on ceremony to give a suggestion 
of gaiety to the saunter, it would be an added gratification. 
Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael were not likely to carry tales to 
Aberfourie ; but what if they did ? Archy cracked his fin- 
gers in disdain. 

He received the news of Marjorie’s coming but a little 
while before her train would be due, and half the interval 
was already gone. Feeling headachy, he turned into a city 
tea-room, where he varied the drinking of tea by chaffing a 
waitress as a preparation for his enterprise. He came forth 
again with a step so buoyant and a hat so jauntily tilted a 
child could have told he was on the most cordial terms 
with himself. 

On reaching the station, he discovered with a start that 
the train ought to be in ; but instantly remembered he had 
never known Scottish railways to belie their reputation for 
unpunctuality. A question addressed to a porter brought 
the reply, jerked over the man’s shoulder, that the Perth 
train was “ a gude whilie late,” he “ didna ken just how 
much.” With an inward comment on the efficiency of 
Scottish porters Archy turned his eyes upon the loiterers 
under the lights that made dreariness visible. “How dis- 
mal ! ” he thought, and stepped to a bookstall. For a 
minute he ranged over the titles of the latest fashion in 
novels ; then passed to the grinning sheets which, with a 
fine audacity, are labelled “ comic.” He had thrown his 
penny for one of these perversions, and was searching in 
vain for the fun, when a sudden bustle made him swing 
on his heel, to find the northern train had arrived. He 
joined in the rush as if eager to embrace a friend, and in a 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 261 

moment was among the jostling passengers. Then, with a 
swift realisation of peril, he was swerving furtively for cover 
among the shadows, when his eye caught the one-armed 
figure of Mr. Carmichael bent over luggage. Beside it 
were Marjorie and her mother, passively looking on. Archy 
stood enchanted. She was not five yards off, and he could 
see her plainly, pale and thinner than heretofore, but — but 
incomparable as ever. 

All at once she turned, and their eyes met. A flickering 
shadow as of fright or surprise troubled her face ; but it 
was gone in an instant, and she smiled the old smile, for 
which, as God was in heaven, he would give his soul. 

“ Archy,” she cried, and before she could say more he 
was wringing her hand. How Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael 
took the meeting he never could tell, and indeed he was 
scarcely aware of their presence, till a porter, with the 
politeness which comes of a tip, intimated the cab was 
ready. 

There was a vacant seat, and on Mr. Carmichael’s invi- 
tation Archy occupied it. At the hotel door Marjorie 
shook hands and passed in hurriedly, her mother accom- 
panying her ; but the minister lingered a moment in talk. 

“ How long do you stay, sir ? ” Archy asked. 

“ I preach as usual on Sunday,” Mr. Carmichael replied. 
“ I must be back on Saturday.” 

Archy counted. 

“ You have but two whole days,” he said. “ Couldn’t 
you get a substitute for once ? ” 

“ I wish you were there to take my place,” was the 
response. 

Archy laughed, reddening guiltily. 

“ Don’t you think, sir, they’d hoot me out of the pul- 
pit ? ” he returned. “ I hear certain tales have been going 
round.” 


262 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

Mr. Carmichael was gazing at him earnestly. 

“ A man who is perfectly frank with himself cannot go 
far astray,” he said. “ It is only when we try to deceive 
ourselves that we are in real danger. There were whispers 
which I heard with a deaf ear. We are old friends; 
perhaps another time you may honour me with your 
confidence.” 

“ May I come to you to-morrow afternoon, sir,” cried 
Archy. “ I should like to talk with one who understands. 
Possibly, if the day is fine, we may be able to walk for 
an hour together.” 

So it was agreed, and next day, as soon as Archy was 
free, they sallied forth in company. For a little while Mr. 
Carmichael was young again, exploring old scenes and re- 
calling old associations. 

“ Man, man,” he would cry, pulling up suddenly in 

some by-street or entry, “it was here that ” And 

there would ensue a tale of the olden time, over which 
Archie’s eyes sparkled. But there came the inevitable note 
of sadness. “ He’s dead, poor fellow,” was the usual end- 
ing. “ Dead long before you were born, Archy. Let’s get 
into the open,” he cried at last, “ I’m among ghosts.” 

Archy suggested a stroll to Arthur’s Seat. 

“ It would be too much to climb it, of course,” he 
said, “ but we might get high enough to be rid of the 
cobwebs.” 

“ I should like to climb it,” returned Mr. Carmichael, 
with a singular expression, “ if you’ve no objections, we’ll 
go up.” 

“ If you wish, sir,” answered Archy blithely ; and 
both being hardened hillsmen, they reached the top 
unblown. 

But one, at least, little guessed what awaited him. Mr. 
Carmichael gazed upon the once familiar prospect with an 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 263 

emotion so quick and so touching that Archy delicately 
turned away, as if absorbed in thoughts of his own. Turn- 
ing back presently, he was amazed to see tears stealing down 
the minister’s face. 

“ You must bear with me, Archy,” said Mr. Carmichael 
softly, noticing his companion’s look ; “ a man does not go 
back half a century and see himself and others ‘ in the dark 
backward and abysm of time ’ without a lump in the throat. 
Great God, what things are life and time ! I fled from the 
streets because they were haunted by ghosts ; but the 
ghosts are here also. Do you see that great stone ? ” he 
asked abruptly, pointing with his finger. “ Well, listen, 
and I’ll tell you something. When I was the age you are 
now, I had a very dear friend, and we quarrelled hotly — 
about nothing. We came here on a spring afternoon by 
ourselves, and fought on the little level space in front of 
that rock. The fighting did not settle our dispute, and we 
parted, never to speak to each other again. Years after- 
wards he laid down his life in India, like the brave man he 
was, and I stood remorseful and repentant by his grave, the 
worse man left. Many and many a time my mind goes 
back sorrowfully to that mound among the Indian hills — 
and it was here we fought, on this very spot on which my 
eyes look after nearly fifty years. If people only knew, 
they would take care not to quarrel, for time makes foolish- 
ness of all that. Come,” he said, after a pause, “ see what 
it is to be an old man and weak.” 

“ Say, rather, a strong man and sincere, sir,” returned 
Archy, in a voice not too well under control. 

“ Thanks for that,” said the minister quietly, “ I don’t 
know that we need be ashamed of our feelings. The Mas- 
ter Himself wept.” 

They began the descent ; the minister silent and heavy, 
Archy awed and subdued to the forgetting of his motive 


264 the eternal QUEST 

for suggesting the walk. A chance remark presently 
touched his memory, and with hot gills and self-condem- 
ning veracity, he poured out the history of his father’s visit 
to Edinburgh. 

“ I didn’t stay to think what I was doing,” he cried in 
conclusion ; “ that’s the truth and the cause of trouble in 
one, sir.” 

Mr. Carmichael regarded him with a look more of sym- 
pathy than of reproof. 

“ It would ill become me, my dear Archy, to blame you,” 
he said gently ; “ but your father was right when he urged 
the need of circumspection, and doubly and eternally right 
in saying that people won’t endure in their minister what 
they take with so deep a relish in themselves. There is 
one law for the pew and another for the pulpit. He was 
right again in stating that the pudding-heads decide the proba- 
tioner’s fate. Afterwards, with luck, he may take it out of 
them ; but the first chance is theirs. Lest brilliancy should 
dazzle and mislead, God has so ordered things that dullness 
rules the world, and, indeed,” he added, with a chuckle, 
“ I’m disposed on the whole to consider it a blessed dis- 
pensation for the cloth. Remember that to be brilliant in 
a trial sermon is ruinous.” 

Archy laughed. 

“ I have sometimes thought of late, sir, that I ought not 
to preach at all,” he said. 

“ Why ? ” demanded Mr. Carmichael. 

‘‘ Oh, for various reasons hard to explain,” returned 
Archy. 

“ Now, my dear Archy,” rejoined Mr. Carmichael 
suasively, ‘‘ I am not going to listen to anything of that 
sort. You are here to qualify for the pulpit, and qualify 
you will.” 

“ I am going on, of course,” said Archy. “ But ” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 265 

“ But what ? ” asked Mr. Carmichael. 

“ Just a feeling, a sort of intuition, that nature did not 
intend me for a preacher.” 

“ Have the goodness to get rid of that feeling with all 
possible celerity,” was the response. “ When I return to 
Aberfourie I want to cheer somebody’s heart and silence 
others’ tongues with an account of Mr. Archibald 
Buchanan’s studiousness. Don’t let it be said that he is of 
those who disappoint hope.” 

“ Oh, he’d be in good company,” cried Archy, with a 
strained laugh. 

“ It is a solemn truth,” admitted Mr. Carmichael. 
“ When I look back it seems that all the brilliant men I 
once knew are gone, or come to naught, and that only 
duffers like myself remain. Oh, I say that in no mock 
modesty,” as Archy showed signs of dissent. “ In my 
time I could have picked you out five score men who, on 
all human calculations, were coming lights. They took 
college prizes ; they debated like young Chathams. They 
were metaphysicians, scholars, poets ; they shone in a thou- 
sand ways. I have lived to see them go one by one — a few 
with colours flying to the last, but most in clouds and utter 
darkness. One can but look on and marvel at the purposes 
of the Highest. For all our learning, Archy dear, we are 
still, as Tennyson says, ‘ but scholars in the lower school.’ 
I accept the position, resting in the thought that if I am 
dull and ignorant, the Master knows the lesson perfectly, 
and in the end will make all clear. Think what a great 
surprise and joy that will be ! I would not be wiser than 
my fellows, because, being what I am, I have not to bear 
the burden and responsibility of wisdom. To be able in 
my weakness to lean on infinite strength is more to me 
than the wisdom of the wise. I do not envy Solomon ; by 
all accounts he was not a happy man. We go through life 


266 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

zigzag, seesaw, stepping back unwillingly that we may go 
forward with the greater impetus. Therefore you’ll go on, 
and make glad the hearts of your father and mother, and 
some others who happen to be interested in your wel- 
fare ? ” 

“I will try, sir,” answered Archy unsteadily. 

“Then,” said the minister emphatically, “you will suc- 
ceed. Oh, here we are.” 

Their walk was ended and Archy discovered with dismay 
that Marjorie’s name had not been once mentioned. 


CHAPTER XVI 


Archy’s promises and resolutions were made in all the 
naked sincerity of his nature. After the fashion of his 
countrymen he had made up the account in imagination, 
debit and credit, to the smallest detail, and decided that, for 
the sake alike of honour and interest, it was imperative to 
finish his theological course with distinction. There may 
have been a touch of pique in the determination, for he was 
proud with the fiery pride of the Highlander, and it should 
never be said he ate dust because a woman was blind and 
scornful. But above or below the pique was the sterling 
Scot’s desire to do his best. Therefore, in assuring Mr. 
Carmichael at parting of amended ways, he spoke exactly 
as he felt. 

“ It’s only a few months more till you’re let loose on 
sinners,” the minister jestingly reminded him. 

“ I’m inclined to be sorry for the sinners, sir,” Archy 
laughed in return. 

“ I am sure they will be immensely benefited. I foresee 
a big revival in a place we both love,” rejoined Mr. Car- 
michael, and wrung his hand in farewell. 

Whereupon Archy set himself to the prescribed tasks in 
all the glow of a conscious prudence. It was a fine thing, 
he felt, to be diligent and wise betimes, for wisdom and 
diligence bring honour, and honour was at bottom dear to 
the heart of Archibald Buchanan. On the very evening 
of his friend’s going he gave convincing proof of his force 
of purpose by refusing to join the ex-dragoon in a bout of 
conviviality. The ex-sergeant, opening his eyes in amaze- 
ment, asked with an oath what was wrong. 

267 


268 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“Nothing serious, I hope,” Archy answered. “You’re 
a soldier, and know what duty means.” 

“ Ay,” acknowledged the other cautiously, “ I’ve heard 
o’ duty.” 

“You’ll understand, then,” said Archy urbanely, and 
passed on, leaving the ex-dragoon in a fury of disgust. 

But Archy did a yet more difficult thing. With perfect 
philosophic calm he resolved to treat Marjorie “ as if there 
had been nothing whatever between them.” He would 
sink the lover in the friend ; be as if he were not rejected. 
On the strength of this resolution he experienced for a 
whole evening the exquisite luxury of Christian charity. 

For a while he fancied Marjorie tried to avoid him, and 
his pride was hurt. But then he chivalrously reasoned that 
she kept out of his way as much to save his feelings as her 
own ; for when by fate or accident they met, she was as 
gracious and winsome as ever. No word of what had been 
or might be arose between them. They seemed indeed to 
enter into a pious competition to shield each other from 
pain. If silence meant oblivion, the past was not only 
dead, but forgotten. Yet each knew that it lived vividly in 
the heart of the other ; and despite Christian principles and 
resolutions, on one side at least, that knowledge revived a 
sentiment potently charged with danger. It is a woman’s 
privilege to pity, and often a man’s fate to be blind. Mar- 
jorie could not help regarding Archy with a compassionate 
tenderness which seemed to endow tone and look and 
gesture, if not actual word, with fond and subtle meanings. 
He took them for what he wished them to be, ingeniously 
reading in significance, and giving to casual utterances the 
import of great confessions and declarations. 

And it must be owned Marjorie liked Archy, admired 
him for many gifts and qualities, thought him extremely 
clever, handsome, generous, and admitted the liking and the 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 269 

admiration just up to the point of peril. Thus it came that 
the old relations were insensibly renewed. Archy told him- 
self there was now more need than ever to act the friend 
and protector, if only “ for the sake of the auld wife ayont 
the fire at Stuckavrallachan,” which, being interpreted, 
means the hearts that were waiting and watching in Aber- 
fourie. Marjorie spied no danger, and was grateful for 
well-meant attentions. Hence it stole into Archy’s heart 
that she was making the way easy for a return. The as- 
sumption was put to a sudden and crucial test. 

It came to pass one Saturday evening, about the time 
when Mr. Carmichael was finishing his Sunday sermon, 
that the pair found themselves walking on the quiet out- 
skirts of the city. The night, though not designed for 
poetic lovers, was fine, the air brisk with a touch of frost, 
the firmament thick inlaid with stars, and just light enough 
to reveal the glamour and wizard picturesqueness of Scotia’s 
capital. Marjorie might almost be said to be in high 
spirits. 

“ Quite a Highland night,” she told her companion, her 
cheeks whipped into bloom by the frosty breeze. 

“■You are enjoying it ? ” he asked. 

“ Immensely,” she answered. 

And on that avowal they strode on, talking lightly and 
laughing. But beneath Archy’s gaiety was the rising throb 
of a passion that appeared the stronger for the long repres- 
sion. With all his arteries drumming he wondered how 
he could seem so much at ease, how compass trivialities, 
with Fate thundering at the gates of his heart. 

By way of diversion and trial he began to edge in senti- 
ment, upon which she smiled ; and so from point to point, 
till, at a chance remark, the seething fire burst out. Mar- 
jorie drew in her breath, turning in terror as if to fly ; but 
he laid hold on her hand, and as he held it in the grip of a 


270 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

vice the torrent poured forth. Could they not be again as 
they once were ? Would she not accept the love which 
had not died and never would die ? In spite of all that 
had come and gone, would she not say the one small word 
— the only word that could make him eternally happy ? 

She was giddy and panting for breath. To steady her- 
self she laid her free hand on his arm unconsciously. 

“ Oh, Archy ! ” she gasped. “ Oh, Archy ! ” 

The cry was one of pain ; but it was fated he should 
misread, misinterpret everything. He drew her towards 
him, clasping so tight that he felt the flutter of her heart, 
as it were, mingling with the tumult of his own. He was 
delirious with a divine delirium. He was not mistaken. 
She was his own — his own. Her head was thrown back 
and her face averted, but that was only agitation and maid- 
enly shyness. He drew a little harder, bent quickly, and 
kissed her in a blind, mad passion. 

She struggled to get free, and failing (for he held her 
as a strong man might hold a child), burst violently into 
tears. He took it as the mark of a happiness too full to be 
kept from overflowing. Murmuring words of endearment, 
he bent as if to kiss her again, and at that, with a sudden 
mighty jerk, she tore herself away. 

“ It is cruel of you,” she cried, her heart-break in her 
voice — “ cruel and cowardly.” 

“ Cruel and cowardly ? ” 

He gazed for an instant like one stunned by a blow; 
then all at once seemed to writhe under the blaze of her 
anger. 

“ My God,” he cried, in startled comprehension, “ what 
have I done ” 

He advanced with outstretched imploring hands, and 
she retreated, prepared to fly if he attempted so much as 
to touch her. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 271 

‘‘What have I done ? ’’ he cried again. “What have I 
done ? ” 

He put his hand to his head, as if to stop its whirling. 
When an honourable man discovers he has covered himself 
with dishonour, an abyss of horror swallows him. Archy’s 
feelings in that moment were the feelings of the lost. 

“ Can you forgive me ? ” he asked. 

Instead of answering she turned and walked away, and 
he knew that the worst was come upon him. 

“ Then you will not forgive me ? ” he cried, following 
after her. 

The words were a wail, and Marjorie’s heart relented 
even then. 

“ Don’t talk of forgiveness,” she said, facing about. 
“ Why, oh, why did you do it ? ” 

If his face were not in darkness, she would have for- 
given him on the spot, so wrought was it with misery and 
contrition. 

“ There is but one answer,” he returned : “ because I 
loved you, and hoped you would accept my love. Any- 
thing else would be a lie. I was a fool, of course, seeing 
what had already happened, but as God sees and judges, I 
meant well, and — and I could not help myself.” 

“ I was to blame,” she cried, and swung on her heel. 
He ran on beside her, protesting she must not say that ; 
but she only repeated the more emphatically : “ I was to 

blame — yes — yes, I was to blame,” and at last she added : 
“ Let us make haste to get home.” 

They walked in silence till they were once more in the 
lighted streets. Then she stopped. 

“ We will part here,” she said, and despite all there came 
a flicker of the old smile upon her face. 

“ Then you refuse to forgive me ? ” he asked, lifting his 
eyes to hers» 


272 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ I desire only to forget what has happened to-night,” 
she replied. 

“ It will never happen again,” he assured her. 

She cast upon him a sad doubting look. 

“ On my honour it will never happen again,” he re- 
peated, as if stung. 

She held out her hand. 

“ Good-night, then,” she said. “ Good-bye.” 

With that she walked away swiftly, leaving him gazing 
in stupefaction after her. 


CHAPTER XVII 


He continued to gaze till she was out of sight ; then 
without change of attitude or expression he brought out 
and lighted his pipe. The act suggested perfect ease and 
self-possession ; but in truth it was wholly mechanical, a 
thing of nerves, in which the senses bore no part. While 
he struck a match and began to pull, he was dazedly try- 
ing to realise what had happened to kill hope and cast him 
loose on the ebony tide. From his old life, his old self, a 
great gulf all at once separated him, and the hither side was 
the very blackness of darkness. What had he done ? 
Clutched at heaven and unloosed the lightning of venge- 
ance ? With a feeling of annihilation he looked back, 
vaguely pitying himself. 

The greeting of a passer-by recalled him to reality, and 
he swung about, the rebel which sleeps in every son of 
Adam stung to a fury of resentment. The world was 
leagued against him. Well, he accepted the challenge, 
and hurled defiance in the teeth of his enemies. Whatever 
allegiance he had owned was cast to the winds. Had he 
not cause to raise the standard of Ishmael ? What if he 
had been wrong ? Had he not begged, pleaded, grovelled 
for forgiveness, and been denied ? Those who refused to 
forgive did the devil’s work, and must take the consequence. 
Why should he prostrate himself in the mud that others 
might trample on him ? He laughed aloud at the thought 
of his own egregious folly. But it was over, past, never to 
be repeated. 

Turning into a cheap music hall he came upon two 
other students preparing, like himself, for the great task 

273 


274 the eternal QUEST 

of preaching the gospel. TThey made merry over the mode 
of preparation as over a standing jest, and drank health 
and more fun to each other. 

‘‘ Divinity men in the halls of Impiety ! ” cried one. 
“ Explain me the reason.’* 

“ Because,” was the ready answer, “ we’re training to 
catch the devil.” 

The joke was so much to Archy’s taste that he instantly 
ordered another round of liquor. 

“And let it be Highland whiskey,” he told the attend- 
ant ; “ it’s the drink of heroes and sages. Ossian sang on 
it, Fionn fought on it, every man of mettle makes love on 
it — and ” 

“ Preachers would preach on it, if they dared,” put in a 
companion. 

“ Good ! ” cried Archy — “ good ! — if they dared. What’s 
wanted in this world, my friend, is courage. 

‘ A fig for those by law protected. 

Liberty’s a glorious feast ; 

Courts for cowards were erected. 

Churches built to please the priest.’ 

I give you the memory of the greatest of Scottish preachers, 
the peerless Robbie.” 

“ Knox,” cried one of the others. “ I include Knox.” 

“ I’m with you,” returned Archy. “ I honour Knox 
because he told a vain intriguing woman a bit of the 
truth. Yes, we’ll couple Johnnie Knox and Robbie Burns. 
They’re a grand pair. One bowled over a queen, the 
other knocked the bottom out of Calvinism.” 

“ Knox went too far,” commented the third. “ Damit 
all, I say, he treated Mary abominably. She was a beauti- 
ful woman, and what have priests to do with beautiful 
women ? ” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 275 

“ More than you think, my boy,” Archy returned with 
a roar of laughter. “ But my gay and gallant cock ignores 
facts. Mary was a flirt; new faces, new fancies, new 
fashions, ever jilting somebody to take up with another — 
and you defend her. When you assume the sacred vest- 
ments and all the pretty girls hang ravished on your lips, 
blushing in rosy innocence when you look at them, think 
of Mary and beware. 

‘ There’s poison in the cup. 

And there’s peril in the snare : 

But the devil’s in the eyes 

Of the tender, drooping fair.’ ” 

The others took up the chorus, 

“ But the devil’s in the eyes 

Of the tender, drooping fair.” 

“ A bit of Hebrew melody from the class-room, 
Buchanan ? ” inquired one of them. 

“ So,” was the reply ; “ where the children eat grapes 
with teeth set on edge.” 

Sallying forth presently, they raised a song in the street, 
and were reminded by a gloomy policeman that roaring 
in public is tantamount to a breach of the peace. They 
bowed mockingly to the majesty of the law and passed 
on, still singing hilariously. The intention was to pay 
their united respects “ to a dear little chit ” of a barmaid 
with whom one of them was on visiting terms; but as 
they drew near the shrine, who should heave in sight 
but the ex-dragoon and his friend, the recruiting sergeant. 
They sang out a cordial salute to Archy, and Archy, 
responding genially, made haste to introduce his compan- 
ions. That done, the sergeant mentioned a “ snuggery ” 
he knew hard by, where gentlemen might quench their 


276 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

thirst, and thither the divinity students were led, rejoicing 
loudly. 

Now in that tavern there took place precisely what takes 
place in a thousand other taverns every night — save in one 
particular. Liquor oils the tongue and moves the heart 
to a merry and ardent friendship. As by magic the sword 
and the church got up a brotherly feeling, and the sword 
enlightened the church on many things, but chiefly on 
the fun and glory of a warrior’s life. The talk veered to 
affairs of gallantry, and the company heard of the affront 
put upon Archy, with particulars of the grudge which, 
by all the saints, he meant to feed fat. The eyes of the 
recruiting sergeant twinkled greedily. Well, the rival was 
a soldier, and the surest way to meet him was to become a 
soldier also. He made the suggestion in perfect good faith. 
There were not wanting instances in which long-standing 
grievances were satisfactorily settled in the hour of action. 

Archy leaped up in sudden wrath. 

“ By Heaven, sir,’’ he cried, “ if we were outside I 
would invite you to fight or apologise for a very discredit- 
able insinuation.” 

The sergeant cringed like a whipped dog. 

“ I meant no insinuation,” he answered humbly. “ And 
as to apologies, why, they’re yours without the trouble 
of going outside. There’s my hand.” 

Now in all his life Archy had never declined a proffered 
hand, and he seized the sergeant’s, apologising in turn for 
the whiff of heat. 

“ It’s my confounded Highland blood,” he explained 
with a flush. 

“ Don’t go back on Highland blood,” cautioned the 
sergeant. 

“I won’t,” responded Archie quickly. “But it’s hot, 
as you see.” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 277 

It’s martial,” said the sergeant, “ that’s what it is. 
Heavens, it makes my heart dance just to think how 
men fight on it. My own arm is cavalry — a lancer to 
your order. I like a horse under me in an emergency. 
The Highlanders ” 

“Take an emergency on foot,” laughed Archy. 

“ Quite right,” returned the sergeant solemnly ; “ and 
what is more, take it well. Therefore, my advice is, don’t 
you go back on your Highland blood ; you might need it 
yet.” 

“Take off your dram, sergeant,” cried Archy. “We 
must have another on the head of that.” 

One of Archy’s fellow-students rose to go. The atmos- 
phere was becoming heady and dangerous, and he wanted 
a kirk without a preliminary scandal. Archy put forth a 
gentle but irresistible hand. 

“ Sit down,” he said, with the easy authority of strength. 
“You’re not going to run away, tail clapped between legs, 
in that fashion. Man, by this time next year you’ll be 
done for — which is to say, my dearly beloved friend, that 
you’ll be at Old Nick, a tough old rascal, tooth and nail, 
gown, cassock, white choker and all, with your chances 
of sport gone forever. Be wise, and make the most of 
your opportunity while it is called to-day, and the evil days 
come not when you cannot drink.” 

He pushed his friend back, laughing Homerically. 

“You mentioned the military spirit,” he remarked, turn- 
ing again to the sergeant. “ Sir, every Highlander carries 
that somewhere j either at the back of his mind or the bot- 
tom of his heart. He comes of a fighting race.” 

“ Everybody knows that,” said the ex-dragoon, nodding 
over his glass. 

“ Everybody,” repeated the recruiting sergeant with 
unction. 


278 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ Particularly those who have tried to fight him,” said 
Archy, in a rising voice. 

The men of arms nodded together. 

“ When the noble Roman,” pursued Archy, — “ having 
no Latin grammar to master — the lucky beggar ! — took it 
into his head to conquer the world, his legions had to halt 
at the gateway of the Highlands. ‘ My noble Roman 
friend, thus far and no farther,’ said the Gael, flourishing 
his claymore, or it may have been his Lochaber axe ; and, 
by Jove ! Caesar had to pack. Pve played among the ruins 
of his farthest camp.” 

Archy was every moment getting hotter and redder, 
louder in voice, wilder in gesture, more eager in a word, 
to prove that he was enjoying himself hugely ; and the 
sergeant played up to him with delicate and delicious en- 
couragement. As the fumes rose, mingling with a fever- 
ish sense of grievance, a vehement desire to be revenged 
in some dark, dramatic way seized him; and the ser- 
geant, watching craftily with contracted lids, was again 
sympathetic. 

“ If I was to tell half what I know about the devilment 
of woman,” he said, ‘‘ you’d have to listen for a month to 
come. When a woman takes it into her head to be nasty, 
it’s a blue lookout for the man. If it’s a fair question, 
what are you going to do ? ” 

“ Do ? ” cried Archy, emptying his glass in disgust. “ I 
don’t know. Get away, I think, from the whole cursed 
place.” 

The sergeant’s eyes glimmered expectantly. 

“ And preach ? ” he asked. 

“ Oh, very likely ! ” retorted Archie. “ Very likely ! ” 

“ Stand up,” said the sergeant, at the same time rising 
himself. 

“ The very cut of a cavalryman ! ” he cried in ad- 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 279 

miration. “ You’ll never in God’s world make a preacher. 
Take that,” clapping a shilling into Archy’s hand. 

Archy took it mechanically. Fire danced before his 
eyes, his head was swimming. One of the divinity students 
sprang up and gripped him. 

“ Fling them back their shilling and come out of this,” 
cried his friend. 

But the sergeant, with a new expression in his face, 
stepped between them. 

“ In the queen’s name,” he said haughtily. “ I’ll trouble 
you to keep off,” and thrust the divinity student away. 


1 

■'i 

I 

I 




,1 

i 




Book IV 


CHAPTER I 

Let the youthful warrior flesh his sword, says an adage 
of Vich Alpine, that he may thereby get the spirit of battle 
to inspire and comfort him. For it holdeth ever true from 
the olden time that of all made weapons the sword is chief, 
and he whose right hand is brother to it cometh as a king 
to his own. But to have the spirit of battle and be denied 
the exercise is to suffer grievous disappointment. Ivor, 
who had chafed and growled like a disabled leopard in the 
seclusion of the hospital, returned to duty merely to stamp 
out the embers of a dying fire, and was openly disgusted. 

‘‘ Why couldn’t the beggars hold out a little longer ? ” 
he said, in an aggrieved tone. “ We’re just warming to the 
sport, when the blessed thing’s over.” 

There was nothing for it but to fall back with as little 
ill grace as possible into the ways of a world deplorably 
wanting in martial ardour. Pending the outbreak of an- 
other little war, room was made for him as A.D.C. to the 
lieutenant-governor of a province, who was proud to have 
a Malcolm on the staff. The appointment, little as Ivor 
valued it, was the cause of envy. 

“ Get me sent on active service and I’ll make you a 
present of the post,” was his response to one who con- 
gratulated him on his happy fortune. “ But I suppose 
there’s no such luck.” 


28 x 


282 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“Well, if there’s luck going, it’s pretty sure to come 
your way,” rejoined the other. 

And he was right. Hardly had Ivor got his wardrobe 
adjusted to the needs of the new social functions when 
there came rumours of contumacy among certain West 
African tribes who failed to appreciate the Great White 
Mother’s length and strength of arm. The Great White 
Mother, taking the interests of Empire into account, re- 
solved to make an example of them for the encouragement 
of all her other dusky children, lest some of them, too, 
should be tempted to be unfilial. 

Pondering the prospects one evening over a cup of coffee, 
Ivor thought he saw chances of fighting. He made his 
ambitions known, and was reasoned with, earnestly and 
eloquently, by the lieutenant-governor and other wise men 
who understood his comfort and their own. Why should 
he wish to die in a swamp or be eaten by ants ? He was 
wantonly flinging away honours present and to come, in 
order to do the work of a policeman — which is to say, he 
was throwing up gaieties at Government House “ to hunt 
vermin in the beastliest climate in the world.” For fight- 
ing in a civilised sense he need not hope. The foe would 
pepper him with slugs and poisoned arrows, decapitate him 
with barbarities too horrible to be mentioned, and then bolt 
into the jungle, where no white man could follow. One 
who knew Africa drew a pretty picture of his fleshless skull 
grinning ornamentally on a fetish shrine. 

These things had the natural effect on Malcolm — that 
is to say, they greatly increased his desire to be sacrificed 
according to the words of his friends. If he were refused 
permission, then, (being a soldier and disciplined) he would 
salute and be silent — but — a big significant but. At 
that, the lieutenant-governor, murmuring regrets and good- 
will in the same breath, politely set official wheels in mo- 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 283 

tion, and these moving other and yet more potent ma- 
chinery in high Olympian quarters, Lieutenant Malcolm, 
of the Black Watch Royal Highlanders, was seconded for 
service in West Africa, there to die in a swamp, or be eaten 
by ants, or decapitated and exhibited in honour of heathen 
gods, as might befall from his superiors’ orders and the for- 
tunes of war. 

He had barely time to pack kit and send three words to 
Aberfourie before he was off on the behests of the Great 
White Mother. Marvellous mother. Queen of the Roman 
heart, by what magic of affection does she inspire her sons 
to give their blood, with shouts of gladness, and account it 
their chief glory to die for her ? Patriotism is not the cope- 
stone of man’s nobility, because humanity looms above 
empire. But nothing else known among the sons of men 
so bravely incites to the valour, which is the virtue of the 
undaunted heart and puissant right arm. For no cause 
under the sun can man do more than give his life, and to 
that last heroism, as enemies testify, the children of the 
Great White Mother rise rejoicing. 

The voyage from India to West Africa is not calculated 
to delight the soul of the man in a hurry. Ivor was still 
making his slow way under hot skies when Marjorie’s letter 
of renunciation reached his old quarters. For a day or two 
it lay there, then it was despatched after the adventurer to 
whom it was addressed. A little later came the general’s 
letter, and it too was sent forth into the unknown. The 
senders hoped both might overtake Ivor somewhere before 
he disappeared among the swamps and ants. 

“If they don’t,’’ said the lieutenant-governor’s private 
secretary, “ all I can say is, the Postal Union’s got a nice 
little job on hand. Even her Majesty’s mail is not sacred 
in West Africa.” 

Several weeks later it happened as the private secretary 


284 the eternal QUEST 

had dimly predicted. For a bearer of despatches, who 
was also pro tern her Majesty’s postman, fell into the hands 
of irreverent niggers and was stripped, most of his posses- 
sions, including all his papers, being burned before his eyes 
in testimony of the savages’ contempt. Being a Briton, he 
protested with oaths and fierce gestures, and was turned 
into a coral guarded by spears and clubs, there to be enter- 
tained according to the rites of hospitality extended to 
strangers suspected of hostile missions. Thus does the 
Postal Union struggle with duty, and such occasionally is 
the contumely heaped on the Great White Mother. In 
the end steel and lead accomplished the gracious work of 
regeneration, and proud chiefs, purged of rebellion, bend 
the knee with propitiatory gifts of gold and ivory. 

When the telegram announcing Ivor’s new enterprise 
reached Aberfourie, it was known to those concerned that 
he could not have received the momentous home letters 
before putting to sea. The question was where, when, 
and how they would find him. The general, when ap- 
pealed to for an opinion, was not optimistic. 

“ Umph,” he replied, between pulls at his pipe. “ In a 
chase round half the globe, letters, as I know to my cost, 
have an amazing knack of losing the scent. Besides, in 
war time there are other things to think of than the prompt 
delivery of private letters. He may get them ; he may not. 
We shall just have to wait and see.” 

Time passed, and the only tidings that came was a news- 
paper item at irregular intervals to the effect that in the 
latest little war the British troops had the customary hard 
luck, which they took in the customary way. Fever was 
rampant, transport a blasphemous hauling through brake 
and quagmire. The foe, too, was troublesome ; now break- 
ing into fierce attack on ground of their own choosing, 
again laying ambuscades, and vanishing elusively in the 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 285 

moment of reprisal. Those watching from afar read, with 
hearts stilled in awe or fluttering in panic, of poisoned 
wound and deadly enteric. For Aberfourie there was no 
particular word till one day a native runner reported that 
Lieutenant Malcolm and twenty men, only three of them 
white, in a moment of crisis accomplished a feat worthy 
of a hundred, and that the leader had fallen ; whereupon 
the expedition was swallowed in a silence as impenetrable 
as the mighty forests of the land of darkness. The gen- 
eral alone maintained some degree of cheerfulness, declining 
to accept anything unofficial. At the same time he owned 
that probability and the runner’s report agreed. 

“ Only,” he counselled, “ let us be patient. If the whole 
expedition is not wiped out, we shall hear presently. If it 
is wiped out, we shall know soon enough.” 

And while hearts were steeled for waiting, there came 
— crash — another bomb. Fate, as observant persons have 
remarked, is an unrivalled artist in the dramatic. One 
puny Aristophanes after another exultingly imitates her 
master-strokes; but hers alone is the irony that scathes 
and withers. On the same morning, almost in the same 
hour, the news came to Marjorie that Ivor had fallen 
and Archy enlisted, and in the horror of the moment it 
seemed she was responsible for both catastrophes. 

She would have fled to Aberfourie if she dared. But 
the doors of Aberfourie were shut against her, as against 
an evil spirit, a person of ill omen. She was unlucky; 
a curse was upon her, a curse that brought misfortune 
to others as well as to herself, ay, even to those for whom 
she would gladly die. And to die and be done with “ the 
fever called living ” was for a little what she most wished. 
Then her heart craved some one to whom she could go, 
sure of pity and sympathy, make a clean breast of it, and 
weep tears of repentance. That also being denied, she 


286 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

wrote two hot, headlong letters, full of a seething turmoil 
that but vaguely and lamely explained itself. One was 
to Coleena; the other to Mrs. Buchanan. Coleena, whose 
heart leaped out in tender compassion replied bravely that 
all at Tigh-an-Eas were keeping up their spirits against 
the good news expected daily, and that she must do like- 
wise. Over Archy’s enlistment Coleena breathed hard ; 
but managed to intimate she thought rather more than less 
of him for being a soldier. 

“ I should like to give him a good scolding,*’ she wrote, 
“ for his way of doing things, and then tell him to go ahead 
and prosper. Don’t shake your wise head when I tell you 
I’m more interested in the new recruit than I ever was in 
the old divinity student.” 

Thus Coleena. As for Mrs. Buchanan, she was first 
dazed and then wildly reproachful. Choking down a fit 
of hysterics, she made for the manse, Marjorie’s letter in 
her hand, and a great wrath and misery in her heart. 


CHAPTER II 


That morning Mr. Carmichael had arranged, with the 
aid of his wife, to complete a long-standing piece of Church 
work, and expected to be engaged until late in the after- 
noon. But five minutes after Mrs. Buchanan passed in at 
the manse gate he passed out, with the look of Christian 
flying from the City of Destruction. For all his valour 
there were certain common things for which he had not 
the courage. He quailed, for example, before a tearful 
woman flinging reproaches haphazard because her heart 
was breaking. Therefore when Mrs. Buchanan swept in 
like a tempest he fled incontinently, leaving his wife to 
minister in his stead. By instinct he turned towards Bank 
House. If he was afraid ^nd helpless before the stricken 
mother, he might reason with the father, who was a man 
and comprehensible. In any case he would do his own 
feelings justice by an outpouring of regret and sympathy. 

He found the banker in his private room, alone and 
very pale. Mr. Buchanan was not emotional. In bank- 
ing there is no place for emotion, and his small original 
stock had long since been dried up or dissipated. He rose 
as his visitor entered, presenting an icy exterior, and a 
hand without warmth. His look told the minister that 
here, too, there was to be a battle. 

“ I came at once to tell you how upset and grieved I 
am by the news from Edinburgh,” Mr. Carmichael broke 
out impetuously. 

The banker motioned him to a seat. 

“ I need hardly say Pm upset and grieved too,” was the 
reply. “ In this world it seems money and hope go up in 

287 


288 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

smoke together. Sometimes it appears as if planning and 
striving v^ere merely a tempting of fate.’' 

“ I cannot tell you how deeply and keenly I feel on the 
matter,” said Mr. Carmichael. “ But perhaps something 
could be done yet to avert the worst if we act promptly.” 

“ I am not going to try,” answered the banker, and his 
tone made Mr. Carmichael stare. 

“ No, Fm not going to try,” repeated Mr. Buchanan. 

“ I have sat here an hour thinking the thing over, and I 
have decided to do nothing — except ” — he paused a second, 
his countenance hardening like the face of Nemesis — “ ex- 
cept to rule an undutiful, ungrateful son out of my book of 
remembrance.” 

“You must not do that,” cried Mr. Carmichael. “We 
cannot ignore our own flesh and blood.” 

“ Some of us are going to try. It seems our own flesh 
and blood can ignore us. If filial duty and affection mean 
nothing, then paternal duty and affection can mean nothing 
either. What the son disdains, the father may well find ari^ 
encumbrance.” 

“ Don’t say that,” pleaded the minister — “ don’t say 
that.” 

“I speak as I feel. You would be the last man to 
have me speak insincerely. In the close relations of life, 
cant is a crime and self-deception a tragedy. I am no 
preacher of sermons. I have to deal with realities. If 
you had a son who requited you as mine is requiting me, 
you would be the better able to understand and appreciate 
my feelings.” 

“ I have a daughter,” said Mr. Carmichael in a strained 
voice. “ And it seems Mrs. Buchanan somehow blames 
her for what has taken place.” 

“When I was recently in Edinburgh,” returned Mr. 
Buchanan, “ I found things the reverse of satisfactory j and 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 289 

Archy confessed there was a woman in the business. I had 
no idea who she was, and he begged of me not to ask her 
name. As he promised amendment, I complied. Did 
you know ? ” 

“ I knew of a fondness on Archy's part,'’ was the answer, 
“ but thought it was over and gone long ago.” 

“ I suppose your daughter told you ? ” 

“ No,” replied Mr. Carmichael, his heart beating with a 
fear he had never felt on the field of battle. “ It was 
Archy himself who told me. He came for my consent to 
— to — I don't know what, for I refused to listen.” 

“ Then it was an old folly f ” said the banker, with the 
touch of frost that burns. “ I think you might have told 
me.” 

“I was not at liberty,” returned the minister, falling 
insensibly into an attitude of defence. “ Do me the 
justice to remember he was forcing on me a confidence 
which I refused to accept — save as a piece of midsummer 
madness.” 

“ Midsummer madness ? ” repeated the banker. “ It 
struck you as that.” 

Yes. And having declined to take him seriously, I 
could not break faith.” 

“ Perhaps not ; yet you see the result. After all, it does 
not do to play with midsummer madness. It's a fire that 
smoulders when you think it dead, and breaks out at a 
breath. If you had warned me, if I had had any idea how 
matters lay, I think I could have prevented this ; however, 
it's done, and that's an end of it.” 

He gathered his brows, as was his wont when passing 
sentence of doom upon a needy suppliant for an overdraft. 
At the same time his face was strangely drawn ; it was not 
a mobile face, and the lines upon it had become hard and 
fixed. 


290 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ Then you blame me,” cried the minister, as your wife 
blames my daughter ? ” 

“ I have spoken quite frankly,” was the reply ; “ but I 
am not a man to indulge in recrimination j it spoils the 
temper and embitters life. One gets old fast enough with- 
out that. You say we cannot ignore our own flesh and 
blood. I own it is hard to cut half one’s heart away. 
Well, I’m prepared for the sacrifice, and the hand that uses 
the knife shall be my own. Henceforth I intend to be as 
if I had no son — as if I had never had a son.” 

‘‘You would be acting against all your best instincts,” 
said Mr. Carmichael, who sat stewing in misery. 

“ Consider the situation before you reprove,” returned 
the banker. “ He has chosen, for reasons best known to 
himself, to bring disgrace on his father’s house. I paid for 
a Master of Arts — ay, and for a Bachelor of Divinity — and 
what have I for my money and my pains ? A private 
soldier. Think of all this spending and teaching to turn 
out food for powder, and above and below all that, the 
black, unforgivable ingratitude.” 

“ I know Archy, and he is not ungrateful,” pleaded the 
minister. 

“ Nothing speaks so convincingly as action,” was the re- 
tort. “ But in any case he has chosen his way. He has 
made his bed, and I’m not going to interfere with him in 
lying on it.” 

“ I beg of you,” said the minister earnestly, “ not to lay 
up grief and remorse for yourself. Be generous enough to 
remember that it is in moments of temptation and trial, in 
moments of weakness — of folly, if you like — that we all 
need help.” 

Seizing a pen and ruler, Mr. Buchanan turned to a sheet 
of paper on his table. 

“ When I have finished a job,” he said, the ring of sup- 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 291 

pressed anger in his voice, ‘‘ I do that,’* and suiting the 
action to the word he ruled a thick black line on the white 
sheet. “ That means,” he added, glancing up, “ that the 
thing is done with. The account is made up and the bal- 
ance struck, and that line is final. In this case I have 
ruled off*. The account is closed.” He flung down the 
pen. ““ And since we are transacting disagreeable busi- 
ness,” he pursued, “ I had better say that I have closed an- 
other account as well.” 

A stinging sensation shot through Mr. Carmichael’s chest. 
By a swift intuition he divined what was coming, and 
shuddered. 

“ During the whole period of your ministry among us,” 
Mr. Buchanan continued, “ I have been one of your elders. 
That office I am going to resign.” 

Mr. Carmichael jerked forward on the edge of his chair, 
as in sudden pain. 

“ You won’t do that ? ” he said, his face the picture of 
terror, 

“ Let us be quite candid with each other,” rejoined the 
banker. “ You know a great deal of the world and I know 
a little. It’s perfectly plain to both of us that there’s a rift 
in the lute beyond our mending. It is impossible to be 
as we were. I cannot help feeling that but for your 
daughter my son would not now be in the uniform of a 
private soldier. I’m human, Mr. Carmichael, and don’t 
pretend that the spirit of religion enables me to forget the 
fact. Mark, I don’t blame you. I merely draw a line, 
and if you won’t think me rude, I prefer henceforth to be 
on the one side while you are on the other.” 

“ You will not do that ? ” groaned the minister. “ I must 
not lose you over such a matter. The scandal would hurt 
the Church and kill me.” 

“ There need be no scandal,” was the reply. “ I cannot 


292 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

very well afford a scandal either. None except yourself 
shall know my reasons. I will treat as impertinence any 
attempt to pry into them. If you keep my secret, I will 
keep yours. But the decision is final.” 

Whatever Mr. Carmichael could do for others he could 
not argue for himself. He rose hastily, saying in a stifled 
voice : 

“You will think better of that.” 

“ Oh, you are quite mistaken,” was the response. 

“ No,” said the minister, “ I think not, because I believe 
you are incapable of injustice and cruelty.” 

And with that he turned and left the room. Outside he 
stood looking about, as if in doubt which way to go. And 
indeed he was thinking that to go home was out of the 
question, since Mrs. Buchanan would still be there, and he 
would be scourged rather than face her again. So he turned 
upward, vaguely intending to seek the coolness of the hills 
alone. In all ages men greatly vexed and set upon by the 
world took to the mountains and the desert places to re- 
cover themselves ; and in the solitude of the rocks he would 
think — think and pray for a way out of the darkness and 
the strife. 

But in the road the general, out for a morning stroll, 
met him, marked his woe-begone face, guessed the cause, 
and marched him straight to the library at Tigh-an-Eas, 
there to unburden himself and be consoled. For the gen- 
eral was still the commanding officer, still the Olympian 
holding the balm and myrrh, as well as the thunder, in his 
hand. 

“ Colin,” he said, when they were shut by themselves 
within doors, “ your look suggests Hamlet's after the first 
meeting with his father's ghost. If we’re still friends, we’ll 
have a drop of claret as a pick-me-up, and perhaps you'll 
let me know in what I can help you.” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 293 

Thereupon, with a tongue that stumbled, and such sen- 
sations as the lost might feel, Mr. Carmichael told what 
had befallen him. The general listened gravely, nodding 
when a nod would encourage, or interjecting a word when 
the narrator was on the point of breaking down. From 
Coleena he had heard of Archy’s enlistment, with no more 
expression of surprise than a lifted eyebrow ; but the con- 
duct of Archy’s father amazed and roused him. 

“ ril talk to him,” he said, with startling decision, when 
the recital was ended. “ He needs it.” 

“ For Heaven’s sake don’t,” cried the chaplain, in a fresh 
terror. “ It would only make matters worse.” 

“ Some matters must be made worse to be made better,” 
returned the general firmly. “ Yes, he certainly needs a 
touch of the curry comb. Resign his eldership, the old 
gowk ! Colin, it’s a strange thing that in the wisest man 
there lurks a bit of the fool somewhere. After acting sen- 
sibly all his life, presto ! he lets the fool out and makes 
himself ridiculous. We’ve come upon the foolish bit in 
our friend the banker, and what we’ve got to do now is to 
get it covered up and out of sight. We mustn’t allow him 
to be getting up toy tempests in his little tin can of a tea- 
pot. It won’t do. Besides, what’s he making a pother 
about ? ” 

“ You may well ask the question,” said the chaplain. 

“ Well,” replied the general, ‘‘ by all accounts my son is 
at this moment lying dead in West Africa — though, mark 
you, I accept nothing but official intelligence — his is in 
Edinburgh with a whole skin. Colin, there were times 
when you and I thought it luxury to get inside barrack 
walls. But people who have always sat on down squirm 
on a crumpled rose-leaf.” 

“ Of course,” put in Mr. Carmichael, ever ready to find 
excuses even for those who used him despitefully, “ poor 


294 the eternal QUEST 

Buchanan’s dreadfully upset over Archy’s action. He calls 
it ruin.” 

“ How the devil does he know it’s ruin ? ” demanded the 
general curtly. “ Does a man single himself out for per- 
dition by taking the queen’s shilling ? I grant you it’s an- 
noying to train a boy for the pulpit and find him vaulting 
into a lancer’s saddle. There’s dashed little money in the 
army, and I suppose our brave Archy enlisted in a huff. 
Our experiences, Colin, have lately proved to us that it’s 
not all beer and skittles to be fathers. Children sometimes 
appear to be designed to upset parental hopes and calcula- 
tions. So far we sympathise with Buchanan. But let us 
have a little practical philosophy, for what’s the mortal use 
of crying that you’re hurt and hugging thorns to your 
bosom ? ” 

‘‘ No use in the world,” assented the chaplain, feeling 
he was himself guilty of the foolishness. 

“ Great Heavens ! ” exclaimed the general. “ If we’re 
going to lacerate ourselves in every little tangle, we simply 
take the enemy’s work off his hands. When a thorn pricks 
me, I refrain from driving it further in. Now, our fair 
Helen, through no fault of her own, God bless her ! has 
turned one or two heads. I’ve a shrewd suspicion she not 
only got the queen a new recruit, which I hold to be a 
worthy thing, but sent Ivor to the wars for his own and his 
country’s good, also a worthy thing. And the poor lassie 
writes self-accusing letters because God made her beautiful 
and winning, and men can’t help falling in love with her. 
I’m in love with her myself, and I tell you, Colin, neither 
man nor woman shall breathe a word against her in my 
presence.” 

“You’re good, always good,” murmured the chaplain. 

“ In her thoughts I dare say I’m the very reverse,” was 
the response. “ And confound me, Colin, in my heart I 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 295 

agree with her. You and I have done a cruel thing; oh 
yes, you needn’t protest, we have, and nothing upholds me 
in my sense of guilt but the feeling that we did right. In 
an age of chivalry we’d be tarred and feathered and made 
to ride the rail. But that’s venturing into unpleasant 
regions. By and by we’ll have a cosy luncheon by our- 
selves and settle a plan of campaign.” 

The first step in the plan of campaign was to attack the 
banker in his fastness before set of sun. 


CHAPTER III 


When the hour came the man was ready. Fixing his 
monocle with a particular care, setting his wide slouch hat 
at a nicely calculated military cock, and taking the gold- 
headed cane reserved for ceremonial occasions, the general 
marched upon Bank House. Unaccustomed to thoughts 
of defeat, it never occurred to him to doubt the issue of the 
invasion. Nor was his confidence ill grounded. For to 
Aberfourie he was as a shining deputy-Providence whose 
smile was a dispensation of honour. If he had neither the 
spiritual authority of his old comrade, the chaplain, nor the 
financial weight of his friend the banker, his was the in- 
effable glory which crowns the divinity lifted high above 
mere men. In a word, he was the tutelary genius of the 
place, and people would as soon have thought of quarrelling 
with his dicta as with the butter on their bread. You can- 
not be a god unconsciously, and the general was far too 
shrewd not to feel his power. 

He timed his visit to catch Mr. Buchanan at the close of 
business, and in fact the banker had just quitted the office 
for the drawing-room when he was announced. He was a 
little put out to find Mrs. Buchanan with her husband, but 
having made up his mind he was not to be daunted in the 
moment of attack. 

“ I called to offer you my congratulations,” he said, in 
his most cheerful manner, “ and am fortunate in finding 
you together. Mrs. Buchanan, let me offer you my felici- 
tations on being the mother of a son of so much spirit, a 
son born for distinction, I am sure.” 

296 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 297 

Mrs. Buchanan gazed at him in a sort of piteous horror. 

“ Oh, General Malcolm,” she blurted, “ it is dreadful — 
it is dreadful.” 

The general was nonplussed, but rallied quickly. 

“ I assure you, madam,” he rejoined gallantly, “ you do 
Archy and yourself an injustice. He’ll make you proud 
and happy yet; perhaps also,” added the general, with 
so knightly and delicate a reproof that the words had all 
the grace of flattery ; “ perhaps if you will permit an old 
soldier and your very humble obedient servant to say so, 
the least little bit ashamed of your want of confidence.” 

She glanced at him out of red, streaming eyes. 

“You soldiers have no heart,” she cried, and hurried 
from the room. 

The general rose, bowing instinctively as she passed out. 
Though he had an air of perfect composure he was deeply 
perturbed by this eccentricity of a woman’s grief. Like 
most men and all soldiers, he detested scenes. In the old 
days, when he was obliged to shoot sons and husbands in 
the interests of civilisation, what tried him most sorely was 
the wailing of women. 

“They’re wound up to perform such extraordinary an- 
tics,” he once said. “You never know when you have 
them. With a man you can usually reckon on the prob- 
able ; but a woman springs on you the impossible.” 

He re-seated himself, turning an uncertain face on the 
banker. 

“ I’m sorry to see Mrs. Buchanan so much put about,” 
he said tentatively. 

The banker had not spoken a word beyond the first 
brief greeting. His countenance was marble. He might 
be thinking anything, he might be thinking nothing. But 
when he opened his mouth it was plain he felt. 

“Naturally,” he answered shortly, “she is put about.” 


298 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

The general read in words and tone a repudiation of his 
own compliments, and braced for a hght. 

“ Well, you know, Buchanan,'* he said sweetly, “ be- 
tween ourselves as men of the world, isn't it a mistake to 
view things too seriously ? " 

“ Unquestionably," admitted the banker — “ unquestion- 
ably." 

“ And to magnify a seeming misfortune ? " said the 
general. 

“ The looker-on judges such folly best," returned the 
banker. 

“You have me there, Buchanan," cried the general, in 
great good-humour. “Yes, you certainly have me there. 
Most of us display a most admirable fortitude in bearing 
other people's troubles." 

“I would hear no man say that of you, General Mal- 
colm," responded the banker. 

“Thank you. Well, I know we are all magnificently 
brave when others fight. No man knows better than I do 
how brilliant and dashing and valorous are armchair war- 
riors, how infallibly wise are drawing-room philosophers 
and critics.^ Personally I am a humble individual whose 
little stock of wisdom has come through hard knocks and 
many stumblings. My schoolmaster, sir, has been a hard 
one, merciless in failure and saturnine in success ; but he 
has managed to get certain bits of knowledge well fixed in 
my head, and the best thing he taught me is to keep up the 
heart. I perfectly understand Mrs. Buchanan's grief and 
disappointment. At the same time I am bound to tell you 
that after considerable experience of the army I think a 
young man of character, talent, and education might do 
very much worse than don the queen's uniform.” 

“ Possibly,” said the banker coldly. “ Doubtless, as the 
proverb says, ‘ All bad things might be worse.' But while 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 299 

it is kind of you, General Malcolm, to speak so well of my 
son, I must tell you it is idle to discuss him.” 

“You have forgiven him ?” asked the general quickly. 

“ I have cut him adrift,” was the reply. 

“ Cut him adrift ? ” repeated the general in astonishment. 
“ God bless my soul, Buchanan, you know you can’t do 
that.” 

“ It’s done,” was the retort. 

“ Forgive me if I absolutely and positively decline to be- 
lieve it, even from you, who never lied in your life,” re- 
joined the general warmly. “ Heavens ! cut off your own 
right hand because it displeases you ? ” 

“ If thy right hand offend thee, cut it off and cast it from 
thee,” said the banker, with a Hebrew grimness. 

“ Holy Writ,” owned the general. “ But so far as my 
reading of Scripture goes, you are not counselled that if 
thy son offend thee he is to be cut off and cast away. 
There’s a form of suicide, my dear Buchanan, that doesn’t 
involve the actual taking of life. Noblesse oblige. Privilege 
is but another name for responsibility. You cannot play 
ducks and drakes with your own children. I speak my 
sure conviction in saying you will live to be proud of 
Archy yet. Don’t be unreasonable if he deviates an inch 
or two from the prescribed path.” 

“ There is a story. General Malcolm,” returned the 
banker quietly, — “ I know nothing of its truth or falsity — 
that a friend of mine, whom I deeply respect for force of 
character and other estimable qualities, found his son de- 
viating, and adopted very drastic measures.” 

“ Ay,” said the general, wincing, “ it’s God’s truth that 
every man knows best just where and how his own shoe 
pinches. The friend to whom you refer so kindly treated 
a pinching shoe in his own fashion, and would be the last 
to deny you a similar right. But personally it seems to me 


300 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

foolish to throw a good shoe away. And I say this/’ he 
went on, with a smile, recognising the futility of argument 
with an obstinate man : I’m going to be loyal to Archy 1 
— with your permission if you’ll grant it ; if not, then on ■ 
my own hook. As for advocacy, he needs it less than 
most. He has gone his own way ; let us wish him suc- 
cess.” 

“ He has gone the way of the fool,” retorted Mr. 

Buchanan with sudden heat. ‘‘And why? Because ” 

“ Because,” put in the general, “ he was in love, and 
we old codgers, who have had our day and our fling, cannot 
very well blame him. If I were young again, I should be 
in love to a certainty.” ,■ 

“ Love ?” repeated the banker scornfully. “I suppose] 
it’s for love that the moth burns itself in the flame. Con- 
founded idiocy, that’s what it is — the lunacy that makes 
a man incapable of keeping away from a woman and 
thinking there is but one petticoat in all the world.” 

The general dropped his monocle, rubbed it medita-1 
tively with the corner of a silk handkerchief, and reset it! 
carefully in his eye. I 

“ The mention of a petticoat,” he said blandly, “ brings] 
me to my second point. Carmichael informs me you? 
threaten to resign your eldership. He is nearly distracted.” 

“ So is my wife,” was the reply. “ As to the eldership,! 
he has reported quite truthfully.” i 

“I hope not,” rejoined the general suavely. “Davidji 
said in his haste what he couldn’t make good in his leisure.* 
A word spoken in heat is not, like a statute of the Medes 
and Persians, irrevocable. You won’t inflict suffering on 
an innocent and terribly sensitive man. For you know, a^ 
well as I, that if Carmichael could have helped it, what you 
regret should never have occurred.” 

“I don’t know how that may be,” replied the banker. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 301 

“ The fact I have to face is that it has occurred, that rela- 
tions are consequently altered, and that the alteration makes 
the eldership impossible any longer.” 

“ Don’t say impossible,” entreated the general. 

“Oh yes; quite impossible. I will not hide from you 
that I am cut deeply. Perhaps you know what it is to 
have all your plans frustrated by those whom they were 
meant to benefit — to give the proceeds of long self-denial 
and find them scattered to the wind like chaff at a barn 
door. If you don’t, you are luckier than I am ; if you do, 
you will understand my feelings. I had got to the stage 
at which a man begins to live his life over again in his son. 
You know. General Malcolm, what it is to do that.” 

The general nodded, though the conversation was taking 
an awkward turn. 

“ I saw chances for him,” continued the banker, “ which 
had been denied to me, and I grasped eagerly for his sake. 
My God, what a father will do ! What a mother will do, 
only the angels in heaven can appreciate, I think. With 
Archy’s mother the first thought in the morning and the 
last at night was for him.” 

At last there came a tremour in the cold voice — that 
voice which seemed to so many people to reveal a nature 
untouched by human pity or fellow feeling in life’s trials. 
The general’s face twitched responsively. 

“I could disregard myself,” Mr. Buchanan pursued, 
after a pause. “ My business in life has been to study 
the interests of others, and I am old enough and bent and 
broken enough to do it meekly. But as to the eldership, 
that’s at an end.” He drew his handkerchief across his 
forehead. “ I am sorry,” he owned, “ because I have 
always honoured Mr. Carmichael, both as a man and as a 
minister. Probably you know that I was among those who 
worked hardest to get him here. You see the result.” 


302 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ The result,” said the general, standing to his guns, “ is 
the friendship and ministry of a good man, a man who has 
more nobility in his little finger — and I have known him in 
every situation that can try a man — than most of us have 
in our whole body.” 

“ Listen, and I will tell you something,” said the banker, 
recovering his composure. “ He knew of the foolishness 
of Archy, and did not tell me. Was that friendly ? ” 

“ He told me,” replied the general. “ But remember 
the knowledge came to him in a way which sealed his lips. 
He had every reason to think the infatuation, as you would 
call it, was past; and, in fact, my dear Buchanan, his only 
real sin is to be the father of a very charming girl, whose 
beauty has caused us both some trouble. He is not re- 
sponsible for the fact that your son and mine fell in love 
with her, and were, as I understand, in some sort rivals. 
We must take such things reasonably, and it would be 
against your prudent and well-ordered principles to resign 
the eldership. Therefore, before I go I want you to do 
me the personal favour of promising to reconsider your 
decision.” 

But ere the banker could either promise or refuse, there 
came a sudden rustling at the door, and Coleena burst into 
the room, her face scarlet from running, her eyes wet with 

joy- 

“ Ivor’s alive and well ! ” she cried, ignoring ceremony — 
“ Ivor’s alive and well ! ” and thrust a telegram into her 
father’s hand. 


CHAPTER IV 


The message was from the general’s friend at head- 
quarters, and struck a double note of congratulation. Ivor 
was again mentioned in despatches, and, despite rumour, 
well and unscathed. The general read the telegram twice 
without word or movement of face ; but Coleena, watch- 
ing like a lynx, marked his eye kindle behind its glass and 
then gleam mistily. She understood, and gave voice to 
her gladness. 

“ Isn’t it glorious ? ” she cried, a world of ecstasy in her 
tone. 

“ Don’t be excited, my dear,” counselled her father. 

“I hold with her,” put in Mr. Buchanan cordially. “It 
is glorious. I’m glad — I’m very glad.” 

“ Thank you, Buchanan,” returned the general. “ The 
boy has come out of it once more all right. But of course 
it’s a small affair — a very small affair.” 

“ Big enough to get killed in, papa, dear,” observed 
Coleena pertinently. “ It seems to me that if these affairs 
with savages are small, they’re exceedingly nasty. If I 
were a soldier I’d ten times rather be hit by a good clean 
bullet that would go decently through me than by poisoned 
slugs and things.” 

“ War on the lips of girls isn’t becoming,” said the gen- 
eral, in gentle reproof. “You might return by way of the 
manse with that,” handing back the telegram. “I dare 
say it will interest Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael. I’ll follow 
you home immediately.” 

She moved swiftly to the door, but turned again as one 
who has forgotten something of moment, 

303 


304 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ You’re not going to be angry with Archy ? ” she said, 
looking the banker squarely in the eyes. “ The only thing 
I didn’t like about him before was that he was a divinity 
student and not a soldier. He’s over that defect now, and 
I like him altogether.” 

With that she whipped about, and was off before he 
could respond. 

From Bank House to the manse the way is a straight 
line. But Coleena must needs make a circuit which in- 
cluded the post office. Thence, in a delicious tremour of 
excitement, she despatched a copy of the telegram to a 
certain hospital in Edinburgh, and that done, hastened to 
gladden the manse with her news. 

Meanwhile the banker, in honest, heart-warm words, was 
congratulating the general, and the general, though pleased 
and grateful, declined to admit that Ivor had done anything 
exceptional. 

“ The boy has done his duty like a British officer ; 
neither more nor less,” he declared. “ And the mere per- 
formance of duty isn’t a thing to blow the horn about.” 

“That depends on the conditions,” argued the banker. 
“ He has done what should make any father proud.” 

The general sprang to his opportunity. 

“There you are,” he cried, with a hearty laugh. “ You 
say I’m to be proud of my son, and denounce your own for 
promising to make you proud ! What’s sauce for Billy is 
sauce for Tom. Mark me, if Archy ever goes into action 
and gets half a chance, he’ll come out with a V.C. or a com- 
mission. You’ll permit me to know the stuff that a good 
soldier is made of. The only trouble with you, my dear 
Buchanan, is that you thought you begot a divine and find 
yourself with a soldier. Looking before and after, as the 
fellow in the play says, I decline to regard that as an unmiti- 
gated misfortune. You have now, if you will permit me to 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 305 

take the liberty of saying so, two duties to perform. The 
first is to console your wife by explaining to her that heaven 
has diverse ways of bringing to honour; the second to 
thank that same heaven for giving you such a son.” 

“ None would at present deny your right to act the cheery 
philosopher,” returned the banker. 

I hold no monopoly of that right,” retorted the general 
blithely. “ It’s yours as well as mine. And pray don’t 
think that a young fellow of wholesome character is posting 
headlong to the devil because he takes his own way. And 
that reminds me again ; for auld lang syne, for your love 
of worth and a manly heart, have mercy on Carmichael. 
There are harder things than to face blazing guns or go 
forward in a hail of lead, and Carmichael is in the throes of 
one of the hardest of them at this minute. You promise 
me to reconsider your decision both about Archy and about 
the eldership ? ” 

“ My mind was made up regarding both,” answered Mr. 
Buchanan slowly. 

Past tense,” cried the general gaily — “ past tense. It’s 
an act of bravery and generosity to reverse our own deci- 
sions when we find them wrong. Well, I’ll have the pleas- 
ure to inform Carmichael — poor devil, he’s fearfully cut up 
— that the thing he most feared is not come upon him after 
all. You’ll grant me that felicity ? I really won’t take a 
denial,” as the other pursed his mouth in dissent. “ I’m 
not a man who goes about boring my friends for favours ; 
but I do humbly and fervently beseech this one, and I’m 
mightily mistaken if you ever have cause to regret your 
generosity. And now, having good news to impart, I must 
be off.” 

He shook hands and hurried away, as if to leave the 
banker no time to rue a good resolution. Fifteen minutes 
later he was in the manse beaming like a boy. 


3o6 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“Just out making calls/’ he told Mrs. Carmichael, “and 
of course I couldn’t pass the manse without looking in. 
I’m not sure if it’s your afternoon for receiving.” 

“ It’s always my afternoon for receiving any one from 
Tigh-an-Eas,” Mrs. Carmichael replied. “ I’m so glad to 
have the tidings of Ivor.” 

The general bowed gallantly. 

“You mean we are all glad, dearie,” corrected Mr. Car- 
michael. 

“ Yes, of course I mean that,” said his wife apologetically. 

It touched the general’s heart to see her face so white ; 
at the minister’s he was afraid to look. 

“You’ll take a cup of afternoon tea ? ” asked Mrs. Car- 
michael. 

“Why — yes — thanks — with pleasure,” returned the gen- 
eral, as if in some confusion. 

He looked absently at the floor, then he brushed an 
imaginary speck of dust from his coat-sleeve, then he 
thoughtfully polished his eyeglass ; and Coleena, who sat 
beside him, knew that something was coming. All at once 
he turned a comical face on the minister. 

“ I have just been with our friend the banker,” he said, 
“ and — and it’s all right.” 

For a moment there was the tense silence that follows a 
thunderclap. Then the jubilant voice of Coleena broke in. 

“ Didn’t I tell you everything would be right, dear Mrs. 
Carmichael,” she cried. 

“ Child,” said the general sternly, “ I wish most sincerely 
you would not interrupt. Yes,” he added, “ I believe all 
will be well.” 

“ Do you mean,” asked the minister, his breath rattling 
in his throat, “ that he is going to buy Archy off? ” 

“ Buy Archy off ? ” repeated the general, with well- 
feigned astonishment. “ Why, in heaven’s name, should 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 307 

he buy Archy off? What he has to do with Archy is to 
let him alone, as a thing he doesn’t understand ; for he 
expects a house-dog and finds a lion’s whelp. I mean 
something altogether different.” 

“ That he’s going to retain the eldership ? ” ventured 
Mrs. Carmichael, and held her breath in awe. 

The general nodded vehemently. 

The minister gazed vacantly, his faculties in suspense. 
His wife’s guess had occurred to him; but he thrust it 
back as certain to be wrong. For a little he was as a 
man swimming in mist, then the mist cleared, and he 
saw the truth plain. 

“We owe that to you, as we owe so much else,” he 
said, his lip quivering. 

The general gulped his tea with a crimson face. 

“ Colin,” he said, wiping his moustache angrily, “ I 
have always known you as a man who told the truth and 
shamed the devil ; why do you depart from that rule now ? ” 

“ Never in his life has he kept to it more closely,” said 
Mrs. Carmichael, “ and I uphold him in speaking the ab- 
solute, sober truth.” 

Coleena caught and squeezed her hand, as if to say, 
“Well done.” 

“Well, well,” responded the general, recovering his 
brightness with the celerity of an April sky, “we must 
not contradict ladies; and we won’t dispute. The main 
thing is that to the best of my knowledge and belief, as the 
lawyers say, Buchanan retains his eldership.” 

Were she not a minister’s wife Mrs. Carmichael would 
have embraced him on the spot ; being schooled in self-re- 
pression she merely refilled his cup, murmuring that most 
certainly they owed it all to him. 

“I said we shouldn’t dispute,” he returned. “What if 
I have been guilty of touching a spring, and setting the 


3o8 the eternal QUEST 

machinery in motion ? It’s a small thing. See, madam, 
how one degenerates. In my old age, I find myself falling 
into diplomatic ways that I’d have scorned in my youth. 
Buchanan and I have talked like brothers ; common sense 
I trust did the rest. He was obstinate at first, and inclined 
to ride the high horse. But which of us getting a smack 
on the face laughs in delight ? I thought he had no senti- 
ment, and, by Jove, he nearly carried me off my feet. See 
how abominably we misjudge men.” 

The chaplain drew a long breath of relief and gratitude. 
Once again his commanding officer had come to the rescue 
and snatched victory out of defeat. God be thanked for 
such a commanding officer. 

‘‘ What we’ve got to do,” pursued the general, now com- 
pletely over the shock to his modesty, “ is to bear with him, 
to treat him gently, and humour him judiciously. For 
although for purposes of my own I pooh-poohed his anger. 
I’m bound to recognise its force. If you want to win over 
an opponent, treat him as you would like to be treated in 
his place. It may or may not be a humiliating confession, 
my dear Mrs. Carmichael, but every man Jack of us yields 
to the right treatment. Discreet coddling will get any one 
of us over his worst fit of temper or rebellion.” 

“ Thanks, papa. I’m glad to know that,” chimed in 
Coleena. 

“ An intimation which is perfectly unnecessary,” re- 
turned her father, “ since you seem to have been born with 
the knowledge. Coming back to our point, Mrs. Car- 
michael, I’m with Pangloss to this extent, that if we’re 
patient and stout-hearted, all will be well in the end. For, 
mark you, I believe the hussy Fate has a lurking sense of 
justice, and justice will see us all happy yet.” 

He bowed, smiling. 

Mrs. Carmichael’s eyes glittered moistily. She had hung 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 309 

on the general’s speech as on the lips of destiny, and it 
made her tremble in joy. But swift upon the joy came the 
memory of Mrs. Buchanan’s afflicted face and bitter re- 
proaches. 

“ I’m afraid it will take Archy’s mother a long time to 
get over it,” she said fearfully. ‘‘And what makes it 
harder, she blames us.” 

“ I’m not going to pretend a sympathy I don’t feel,” re- 
marked the general blandly. “ The head and front of your 
offending is this, that you are the mother of a daughter too 
beautiful, too charming for the peace of those about her, 
whom she fascinates and dazzles without knowing how. I 
think you may not unreasonably be asked to bear up under 
the misfortune. Since ever she could toddle I have had the 
honour to rank as her friend, and I’m proud of her. I 
dare not say more — except this, that whoever is guilty, she is 
innocent, whoever unwise she is prudent, save in her self- 
reproaches.” 

He rose, as if all differences were finally composed. 

“ Come, Coleena,” he said ; and they went together, Mr. 
and Mrs. Carmichael gazing after them till they passed out 
of sight. Coleena hung joyously on his arm. 

“ I’m glad you spoke as you did, papa,” she told him, 
with one of her rarest looks. 

“ I only hope I’m right,” he answered dubiously. “ But 
I think I am. In any case, I poured what oil I had on the 
troubled waters.” 

When they reached Tigh-an-Eas a telegram was handed 
to Coleena, containing two words : “ Thank God.” 

Being questioned, she gave it to her father. 

“ How comes this ” he demanded on reading it. 

“ Oh, I sent a message saying Ivor is well,” she ex- 
claimed, colouring a little, “ and that’s the reply.” 

The general handed back the telegram without comment. 


CHAPTER V 


Next morning the post-bag contained a letter addressed 
in a familiar hand, which the banker turned over with a 
slight compression of the mouth and laid aside unopened. 
When the official correspondence was out of hand, how- 
ever, he took it up again, holding it gingerly, as in a kind 
of fateful suspense. It was with the spasmodic jerk of one 
doing a dreaded thing that at last he slit the envelope and 
unfolded a single sheet of note-paper, dated from certain 
cavalry barracks in Edinburgh. Briefly and very much to 
the point it told what was already known. , Archy made no 
attempt to extenuate or excuse. He had taken the fence in 
the face of policy and prudence, and he knew the act could 
not be approved. Therefore he entered no plea, nor indeed 
gave any explanation. But after expressing sorrow for the 
inevitable disappointment entailed, he added, to prevent 
mistakes, that the vials of wrath were to be poured on his 
head alone, since he only was to blame. His poor belong- 
ings were going back to his mother, if she would accept 
them. 

“ They are all I have now,” wrote Archy, “ to testify a 
love which remains unshaken, and will continue as long as 
my heart can remember or feel. As for the rest, let it be 
silence. What is done is done, and I take the consequence. 
For a long time an uneasy conviction has been growing 
upon me that I was not meant to be a preacher, and it 
is better the backsliding should come now than later 
on. I dare not ask your forgiveness, but I pray you 
may think of me sometimes, not wholly in condemnation. 
My worst misfortune would be the thought of oblivion in 
the hearts of those I love. I have leaped into a strange 

310 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 311 

new world, but neither the strangeness nor the newness 
will keep me from thinking of you and feeling grateful for 
untold care and affection. I beg of you not to imagine 
they have been wasted. The future is with God, and we 
are entitled to hope. Cavalry work, they tell me, is hard ; 
the harder it is the less time there will be for loneliness or 
vain regret. 

‘‘Your undutiful but still affectionate son, 

“Archibald Buchanan.” 

The banker put down the letter, lay back in his chair, 
and stared very hard at the ceiling with eyes suddenly 
dimmed. Ah yes, the general was right, as usual. A man 
will not come scathless out of a conflict with his own flesh 
and blood. He was still in a deep muse when his wife en- 
tered, inquiring if there were any letters for her. At sight 
of his face she ran forward, crying out, with a mother’s 
lightning intuition : 

“ Word from Archy ? ” 

For answer he gave her the letter, rose, and gazed out of 
the window. Without marking anything outside, he turned 
back, and was not surprised to find his wife’s face wet. 

“You had better take it, dear, and think over it by your- 
self,” he said, with unwonted tenderness. 

She went silently, and the banker sat down again to think 
— if possible to unravel the tangle into which his life was 
falling. Archy had gone and made a mess of it — a trooper 
where there ought to be a bachelor of divinity ; wasted 
money, wasted opportunity, shame, sneers, the pointed 
finger, the pride laid low. Undeniably he had made a mess 
of it. Yet — yet was it wise to be hard and harsh ? In 
dealing with his own the disciplinarian deals more or less 
poignantly with himself ; and in dealing with ourselves, the 
sternest of us is wondrously disposed to be lenient. Was 
it right to mete out the vengeance which the hot heart in 
the first moment of shock and chagrin had devised ? “ For- 


312 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

give us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass 
against us.” Had the nightly prayer any meaning, or was 
it an empty mockery. “ Mockery,” echoed something 
within, startled to a throbbing alarm. “ Forgive us our 
trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us.” 
Almighty Providence, if people but considered what they 
asked, how many would dare to send up the familiar peti- 
tion ! The banker shivered eerily. For twenty years he 
had been a kirk elder, and it was only now he realised the 
awfulness of damning one’s self under the guise of prayer. 
Out of their own mouths men elected to forgive or remain 
un forgiven ; if they were forgiven only as they forgave, 
who could expect to see salvation ? No, it is not for the 
sinner to deal out vengeance. 

And then swift upon this sense of the blasphemy of 
formal unfelt prayer flashed the memory of the general’s 
heroism. With his own son reported dead and subject to 
horrible barbarities, the old soldier had kept a calm heart, 
nay, more, came to encourage and comfort those in less 
trouble than himself. The banker glowed in a hot shame. 
“ He’s given me a lesson,” he reflected, sitting upright — 
“ he’s given me a lesson.” 

The lesson was the lesson of example, which is so much 
more potent than precept. The coward may give counsel 
worthy of Solomon, but only the brave man can show the 
way in a crisis. The man who had never in the stress of 
battle asked a soldier to face any peril which he would not 
have leaped to face himself was now as ever the doer, not 
the talker. That was why his example proved an inspi- 
ration. The banker, communing very closely with himself, 
decided to consider his course carefully, alike in justice to 
his own heart and in tribute to the general. 

And as these thoughts were passing through the father’s 
mind, the son was whirling across the border, on his way 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 313 

to the depot of an English cavalry regiment, there to be 
converted into fighting material for the Empire. It is not 
to be supposed Archy lost sight of the grey brooding moor- 
lands with a light emotion, or went to his fate without 
prickings of remorse, and deep electric thoughts of those 
behind. The road into England may, as the surly critic 
averred, be the best road the Scot has ever discovered ; but 
he rarely takes it the first time without backward yearnings, 
nor can all the splendours of exile keep him from dreaming 
fondly of dear bleak hills, of misty corries, and peat hags 
in windy purple heathlands. 

Blows the wind to-day y and the sun and the rain are flying ; 
Blows the wind on the moors to-day y and now — 

Where about the graves of the martyrs the whaups are crying — 
My heart remembers how. 

Could Archy have guessed all that was to happen ere he 
saw Scottish heather again, his heart might have beat even 
more strangely than it did. 


CHAPTER VI 


The post which brought Archy’s letter to his father also 
brought one from the same hand to the minister, which he 
read as with feelings set on fire. It ran thus : 

“ Dear Mr. Carmichael, — 

“ By this time you have probably heard of my folly. 
I am now on the eve of departure to England and the for- 
tunes of the cavalryman. You may well exclaim with the 
good Geronte, ^ue diable allait-il faire dans cette galere ! 
You of all men know best whither the galley may carry 
me. Let that, however, pass. My purpose in writing is 
to say that I could not cut off the past, dear Mr. Car- 
michael, without sending you even such a hurried word of 
thanks and gratitude as is now possible. Take it, I be- 
seech you, as coming in the words of your beloved poet, 
ab imo pectore. This is no time for idle sentiment. I am 
like a man who, finding his hour at hand, sets his house in 
order, and with magically clarified feeling remembers the 
kindness and nobility of his friends. You have been to 
me a spiritual father, an inspirer in a thousand ways. God 
requite and prosper you. As you were one of my idols in 
boyhood, so in manhood I love to think of you as my 
model. I go an unexpected way. Some of the scenes 
which General Malcolm and you saw together I may see ; 
and I pray that the spirit which made heroes of you may 
not altogether forget me, though I must act so much more 
humbly. 

“And now one last and very particular word. For what 
has come to pass I alone am to blame. I say this that 
others may not be censured or condemned unjustly. You 
remember what I told you — nay, rather, what I confessed 
to you — that summer night among the woods above Aber- 
fourie. God in heaven ! my brain reels at the thought of 
all that has happened since. 


314 


3^5 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“But let that too pass. For the sake of her whom I 
named that night, I recall the presumptuous folly now. Do 
not, even in the most secret chambers of your heart, blame 
her. Let no one else blame her. Above all, let none who 
cares for me or my wishes breathe a syllable against her — 
that is my last request. As for me and my misdeeds, let 
the charity of silence cover us. Some day you may hear 
of me as you would like to hear of me. Till then, if the 
time ever come, and while I live, 

“ Believe me, dear Mr. Carmichael, 

“ Most gratefully yours, 

“ Archibald Buchanan.” 

The letter was handed in at the breakfast-table, read 
silently, and passed to Mrs. Carmichael without remark, 
because the minister could not trust himself to speak. His 
wife read it with a tense white face, and then, looking up, 
sighed a deep “Thank God.” 

“ Yes,” said the minister quietly, “ that letter proves 
Archy Buchanan to be exactly what we thought him.” 

Mrs. Carmichael, being the usual custodian of important 
documents reaching the manse, naturally took charge of 
the letter. Retiring to her own room, she read it again and 
yet again with an elation which nothing but tears could ex- 
press. It was noble and sweet ; the sweetest message that 
had come to her for years — and it was true. 

Early in the afternoon she went out, and a magnetic 
attraction drew her to Bank House. “ She must see it,” 
she told herself, thinking of Mrs. Buchanan. “ She 
blamed Marjorie : it is right she should see what her own 
son says.” 

She went, clearly remembering the delicate responsibility 
which rests on a minister’s wife dealing in an intricate 
family affair with the spouse of her husband’s ruling elder. 
Though the pulpit stands high, it must duck deferentially 
to the chief pews, which furnish the sinews of its holy 


3i6 the eternal QUEST 

war. One day in seven the preacher has his free fling, 
none daring to interfere or question, and those who “ sit 
under him ’’ endure grimly or go to sleep, according to the 
state of conscience or digestion. For the other six days 
he is at the common mercy, whence it comes that the pas- 
tor of sensitive and unworldly temper finds trouble as the 
sparks fly upward. Indeed, if his sole aim be to get his 
flock quietly and safely within the jasper gates, he must 
often bare his back voluntarily to the scourge, because, 
while scourging is calculated to keep the scourged humble, 
it also eases the scourger’s soul of evil humours which 
might hinder in the way of righteousness. When Mr. 
Carmichael suffered thus, his wife, having a wifely eye to 
his temporal welfare, ventured to remonstrate with him. 
“ My dear,” he would answer, “ we must not mind thorns 
and briers by the way. What we have to do is to make 
for the goal, regardless of the bleedings by the way.” The 
principle made him invincible in the endj but it sometimes 
proved frightfully painful and costly. 

These things were clear in Mrs. Carmichael’s mind. 
She knew that, alike for Church and family reasons, an 
irate ruling elder must be smoothed down, conciliated, led 
gracefully to imagine himself indispensable in the vast 
scheme of Providence. Yet she went on her mission with 
a certain joyous satisfaction. For a woman feels that jus- 
tice is never so just as when she is giving another woman a 
Roland for an Oliver. 

An hour the two wives were together ; then Mrs. Car- 
michael stepped out of Bank House and turned homeward, 
smiling contentedly. Drawing near the manse, her mind 
full of the joy of conquest, she was surprised to hear sounds 
of music issuing thence — ranting Scots airs and marches, 
and then a girl’s voice lifted like a lark’s in irrepressible 
song — the song of the sword. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 317 

A charge / a charge ! an ocean burst. 

Upon a stormy strand. 

Ha ha ! how thickly on our casques 
Their pop-guns rattle shot ; 

Spur on, my lads, we*ll give it them 
As sharply as we*ve got. 

Now for it : now, bend to the word — 

Their lines begin to shake ; 

Now through and through them — gory lanes 
Our flashing sabres make! 

Coleena was at the piano when Mrs. Carmichael entered, 
and it was plain at a glance she welled and bubbled in pure 
gladness. 

“ I know you’ll forgive me for taking possession,” she 
cried, springing up with open arms. “ Mr. Carmichael and 
papa are upstairs competing which can produce most 
smoke; and not caring to be converted to red herring just 
yet, I came here to amuse myself till you returned.” 

“ Surely, dear,” was the motherly response. ‘‘ I wouldn’t 
forgive you if you hadn’t.” 

They climbed to the study together, Coleena’s arm about 
Mrs. Carmichael’s waist, to find the general and the 
chaplain looming grotesquely in clouds of choking smoke. 
The general rose hastily, fanning with his right hand, and 
apologised ; but Mrs. Carmichael would have no apology. 

“ It does women folk good to see men folk completely in 
their element,” she laughed ; and her husband scrutinising 
her face, took heart from its expression. 

“ It’s with smoking as with drinking,” remarked the gen- 
eral, dropping back into his chair. “You smoke when 
you’re glad, and you smoke when you’re sorry. You 
smoke to ease pain and to deepen happiness.” 

“ Speak for yourself, papa,” struck in Coleena. “ Some of 
us can still be happy without either drinking or smoking.” 


3i8 the eternal QUEST 

Mr. Carmichael took up a paper which lay open on the 
table and glanced at his wife. 

“ Read that, my dear,” he said, his finger on a particular 
paragraph. 

She read quietly, drawing in her breath, then turned sud- 
denly and kissed Coleena’s intent face. 

“ Pm so glad, dear,” she said, her voice trembling like a 
smitten harp-string. “ I cannot tell you how glad.” 

“Well, then, you mustn’t cry over it, you know, dear 
Mrs. Carmichael,” returned Coleena rapturously. 

“ Thank God for valour,” said the chaplain, as if speak- 
ing to himself, “ and sons that are like unto their fathers.” 

Coleena wheeled, her face radiant and quivering with 
joy ; but before she could speak her father growled from 
the depth of his tobacco cloud : 

“ Colin, no nonsense.” 

Coleena was on him in a flash. 

“It isn’t nonsense,” she answered triumphantly. “Ivor 
has done gloriously.” 

“ Girls in their teens are of course expert judges of 
war,” retorted the general. “ Ivor has done what Mr. 
Carmichael and others did a hundred times under my eye 
in hells far worse than any in West Africa without a word 
of fuss about it.” 

“ Oh yes, of course I know,” rejoined Coleena, beaming 
yet more joyfully. “ He did his duty, that’s what you 
mean.” 

“Just so,” said the general. “Ivor, so far as I know, 
has done no more ; I hope he has done no less. In all 
likelihood he did just what he could. When it was my 
happy fortune to command in the field, and I ordered a 
man to do this or that, I expect him to do it promptly and 
willingly, or get knocked over in trying. And I’ve in- 
variably found that the man who does his duty as he takes 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 319 

his breakfast, as part of the day’s work, without thought of 
heroics, is likeliest in the end to get a little of what is called 
glory.” 

“ Granted,” said the minister sweetly. “ Yet I stick to 
my nonsense.” 

“And I back you, sir,” cried Coleena. 

Mrs. Carmichael chimed in to the same tune, and the 
general lay back, vanquished and smiling, for he was very 
happy. 

In self-justification Mr. Carmichael read the despatch 
aloud, and this is part of what it said : 

“ Finding that Colonel was severely wounded, that 

the gun and Maxims were out of action, that his ammuni- 
tion was running short, and that the enemy’s fire did not 

slacken Major was on the point of retiring when 

Lieutenant Malcolm came up to him and volunteered to 
carry the stockade with the bayonet, if his own company 

was placed at his disposal. Major at once ordered up 

the company, and Malcolm charged at its head, followed 
splendidly by his own men and all others near, their officers 
leading them. The enemy did not wait the rush, but fled 
and never rallied ; and it is not too much to say a disaster 
to our arms was averted, since a retirement might have 
ended in a panic. For this act of distinguished gallantry, I 
consider Lieutenant Malcolm deserves the highest reward a 
soldier can receive, and am making recommendations ac- 
cordingly.” 

The general breathed a soft delicious sigh. He would 
not himself put his lips to any horn, but in his heart he 
owned that the music others discoursed was sweet. A 
kind of lyric ecstasy, indeed, thrilled through the old 
soldier. Ivor’s feat was stirring even to one accustomed 
to deeds of life and death by heroes, and that mark of 
distinction for conspicuous bravery in the field — the meed 


320 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

dearest to the soldier heart — was a fair augury for the 
future. Ivor was clearly making the best of opportunity. 
Men, the general often remarked, talk nonsense about 
luck. Luck is merely the ability to take occasion by the 
hand, and for every man who sees his chance and takes it 
under fire a thousand can die as heroes; for the young 
officer who is one day to lead must have the seeing eye 
and the quick brain, as well as the dauntless heart. The 
general crooned cosily in spirit over Ivor and his pros- 
pects, and was therefore disposed to take the chaplain’s 
“ nonsense ” as a compliment not ungrateful nor wholly 
undeserved if too much were not made of it. 

‘‘ Thank you,” he said, rising to go ; “ it takes one’s 
friends to swell one’s head.” 

‘‘ On the contrary,” returned the minister gaily, “ the 
particular office of the candid friend is to drain the water 
off the brain.” 

“ I’m unlucky in my friends, then,” smiled the general. 
“Well, you are all very good; and if you overlook my 
vanity, I’ll agree with you to this extent, that Ivor has 
made a promising start. That’s something.” He turned 
graciously to Mrs. Carmichael. “ And I’m glad to think 
that matters nearer home are going well. We shall all be 
skipping for joy before we know where we are.” 

With a meaning look at her husband Mrs. Carmichael 
produced Archy’s letter from her pocket. 

“Will you read that before you go?” she said, handing 
it to the general. 

He complied with military deliberation and an inscrutable 
face — the face with which he was wont to receive doubtful 
reports in the field. On reaching the end he beamed. 

“ Capital ! ” he cried, “ and precisely what I should 
expect from Mr. Archibald Buchanan. The man who 
could write such a letter in such circumstances is worth 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 321 

looking after. His heart’s right, and I don’t think he’s a 
fool.” 

Coleena, too, had to get the letter, and as she read her 
face grew hot. Poor Archy ! 

‘‘ A noble letter,” she said with a little swelling and 
tremour of the breast, and handed it back. Mrs. Carmichael 
marked the flush and the flutter of agitation with surprise. 
The men, being dull and preoccupied, saw neither. 

At his next meeting with Mr. Buchanan the general 
made such adroit use of Archy’s farewell message, dwelt 
so touchingly on its nobility, that very soon he had the 
banker like clay in the potter’s hand. If you wish to 
find grace with a young mother, dote on her baby ; if 
you wish to win over a refractory father, praise his erring 
son direct in the teeth of his adverse judgment. The 
general was almost as much astonished as pleased by his 
own success. 

‘‘ I ought to have gone in for diplomacy,” he chuckled 
on his way to the manse to report progress. “ I should 
be an ambassador by this time, a Right Honourable, and 
God knows what besides ; and the whole business is as 
easy as lying.” 

The pith of his news was that the banker, considering 
the situation with a regenerate heart, had given an explicit 
promise to retain the eldership. 

“ I put it to him fairly and squarely, like this,” the 
general explained, “that whatever else an eldership may 
or may not be good for, it is good first and foremost 
for the elder’s own soul. I hinted, on your authority, 
Colin — that in the spiritual world there is such a thing 
as cutting off your nose to spite your face. I asked him 
why he should imperil his own salvation. That was 
the gist of my argument. Oh, I was quite scriptural, 
Colin — recalled in my own mind a thousand things you 


322 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

had said in the pulpit and in the field, and just let 
him have them judiciously between the eyes. And that 
suggests to me that if the cloth hit a little harder and 
a little straighter, the enemy would come quicker to his 
knees. For after all, fighting the devil is pretty much like 
fighting our old friends on the frontier.” 

‘‘ The reasoning is sound, as usual,” admitted Mr. 
Carmichael. “ But you have just seen how easily the pew 
can overthrow the pulpit.” 

“Well, well,” rejoined the general cheerfully, “the 
banker is getting back to his right mind, and that’s the 
main thing at present. At bottom he’s a man of sense, 
and a man of sense, however far he may go wrong, 
comes right sooner or later. Now that he’s given in we 
must stroke him softly, so as not to set up his back 
again.” 

Never before had the general exerted himself so 
zealously as peacemaker. In his hot youth and prime 
he had often prayed for red war, for no reason save that 
he might “ keep his hand in.” Now with an equal 
ardour he strove for concord, and was so successful that 
after a single Sunday’s absence the banker was at the 
head of his pew almost as if nothing whatever had gone 
wrong. So the old life flowed smoothly once more, and 
men went to and fro as if no earthquake had upheaved and 
shaken existence. 

Presently, too, Marjorie was back on a flying visit, and 
her sweetness in scenes and recollections poignantly painful 
was the last touch of salve to old sores. Even Mr. 
Buchanan could forgive his son for being a lover, though 
after earnest Christian effort he could not quite pardon him 
for being a fool. 


CHAPTER VII 


The Great White Mother sweeps her long sword-arm 
athwart the horizons, and world-events begin to stir. 
Often her devoted ones are sent to battle equipped as for 
defeat. None the less she plans and watches narrowly, 
and roused, moves like a daughter of Jove, now slow and 
heavy-footed, now swift as lightning, to issues of destiny. 
While Ivor and those with him were exercising themselves 
on the rim of the empire — in India, in West Africa ; while 
Archy was graduating as a sergeant of lancers, and Tigh- 
an-Eas, Bank House, and the manse, their ruffled sensi- 
bilities soothed, exchanged pledges of renewed friendship 
and relapsed into the normal mood of watchers, England 
was unostentatiously busy. 

In the land of the pharaohs, the land of immemorial mys- 
tery, she quietly forged the bolt that was to avenge a 
martyred hero. She mentioned Gordon under her breath, 
and her heart swelled ; for deep down under her outer crust 
of stolidness there wells and bubbles a great fountain of 
sentiment. The Knight Errant of the nineteenth cen- 
tury, the Crusader who fought for the Holy Grail when 
his fellows were devoted to the golden calf, had stirred the 
old heart with new feelings of chivalry. So she set her 
teeth purposefully ; and with the unhasting, unresting, 
energy of fate prepared to be avenged. To others, even to 
herself, she called the enterprise by a diplomatic name ; but 
all who understood her knew she would never turn back 
until the traitors who had outraged the headless body of her 
hero were broken and scattered as chaff on their own desert 
wind. Men talked of the conquest of the Soudan; but 

323 


324 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

their thoughts were of that glorious figure, facing for the 
last time, and undismayed, a forest of Arab spears. Where 
Gordon fell, a Briton must stand victorious, the imperial 
flag flying in sovereignty over him. 

To carry it thither, valour trooped from the ends of the 
empire. Among the lucky ones permitted to face the Sou- 
dan’s thousand forms of death, of which steel and lead are 
least to be dreaded, was Lieutenant (Brevet Captain) 
Malcolm, D. S. O., of the Royal Highlanders. Having 
experience of the nigger he was attached to a black brigade, 
and the brigadier, tawny with the suns of many climes, wel- 
comed him in the language of the Gael. 

“ I give you a double toast,” he said, at a hasty mess 
dinner : “ Tir nam Beanns\ nan Gleanns\ nan Gaisgeach^ 

and the health of my first idol. General Malcolm, who 
taught me to fight. May his son be worthy of him.” 

“ His son, sir, covets no higher honour,” returned Ivor 
modestly, yet with a flush of pride. 

“ Faith, it ought to be quite enough,” laughed the briga- 
dier, “ seeing it will carry him wherever or to whatsoever a 
soldier could desire. Well, we want folk in the Highlands 
not to be ashamed of us. We might be a little more in our 
element over by in the other camp, where the tartan waves 
and the bagpipes remind one of the heather. Before all’s 
over, however, we may hear a good deal of the pipes, for 
the Highlanders must help to wipe out the disgrace of 
Khartum.” 

“ Do you think the enemy will stand, sir ? ” Ivor asked, 
as if doubting the courage of the Dervish. 

“ Oh, you need have no fear of a walk-over,” returned 
the brigadier, “ I know Fuzzy-Wuzzy, and he doesn’t run 
away. Some day, when we have beaten him and taught 
him to respect us by treating him fairly, he’ll make a first- 
class soldier. Meantime, we’ve got to catch him, and 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 325 

there’ll be plenty of fun, I think. With my own brigade 
the difficulty is to keep the men in hand when there’s a 
chance of rushing the other side. I mind once the very 
devil was in them. Egyptian oaths gave out, and I had to 
take the Gaelic. That checked them. It’s the ardour of 
our own men we’ve got to guard against.” 

Ivor’s pulses danced joyously at thought of such a 
defect. 

A little earlier there had arrived on Egyptian soil a ser- 
geant-major of lancers, once a divinity student in Edinburgh, 
whose business it was to teach children of Pharaoh cavalry 
drill according to British rules, so that they might face the 
scourge of the desert, the terrible Baggara horsemen. A 
centaur in the saddle, this sergeant-major had a name 
among experts as master alike of the sword and the lance 
and for expedition in knocking a sense of duty into recruits. 
The fact is, he had thrown himself into soldiering to forget 
the past, making it both business and recreation; and so 
won swift promotion. To get yet further from the past, 
he had volunteered for the Egyptian army, and was chosen 
first among a multitude of sound soldiers. In Egypt he 
drilled as if drilling were the sole end and aim of life — 
drilled and waited for the great chance to come. For 
amusement in the intervals of drilling he wrote things 
which London magazines and newspapers received with 
rapture. When the first sketch, shyly and doubtfully sent, 
reached the office of a renowned metropolitan magazine, 
the assistant editor passed it on to his chief with the re- 
mark, “ The fellow is either a genius or a thief.” Unable 
to detect felony, the editor accepted the theory of genius, 
marked the paper for the next issue, and wrote for more. 
More came, and yet more. The newspapers discovered 
the new writer, quoted from his articles, ascertained his 
name, though it never appeared in print, and politely in- 


326 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

vited contributions. He sent them, and was remunerated at 
rates which took all the lustre out of army pay. 

The contributions ceased suddenly ; for the great ma- 
chine in which he was as a minor cogwheel had begun to 
move. His Egyptians were at last to get a chance of vin- 
dicating British discipline; and though he had no place in 
the ranks, being neither officer nor trooper, he was not to 
be denied the gratification of going with them. 

At Berber one night, in the midst of a riot of dancing 
horses and galloping Maxims, he was struck breathless by a 
vision of Lieutenant Malcolm, evidently hurrying to the 
front. For the next half-hour he almost forgot his horses 
and his guns in the tumult that raged within. 

“ Yes,” some one told him, repeating a piece of perfectly 
superfluous information, “ Malcolm is one of the special 
service men. Son of a general ; besides, did something in 
India or West Africa.’’ 

“ Ah ! ” was the response, made with a flashing remem- 
brance of what he had done elsewhere. The bitter thought 
was sweetened, however, by that spice of admiration which 
one brave man always feels for another, be he ally or rival. 
Yes, Lieutenant Malcolm was the son of a general, and did 
something in India or West Africa. Moreover, to the ex- 
perienced eye of the sergeant-major, he looked fit for a 
great deal more. 

The great machine had moved a little further forward 
before they came into touch again. It was in a camp tried 
by many false rumours, and seething with discontent be- 
cause there was no fighting. For the army wanted to 
picnic in Khartum without loss of time. Wherefore the 
Scots pasha commanding the division requested the cavalry 
to bring him accurate information of the movements and 
disposition of the enemy. The fellah, putting the gravity 
of fifty centuries into his countenance, trotted out and 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 327 

looked at the treacherous mimosa jungle. Probably the foe 
was there, lying in wait like a beast of prey. Allah alone 
could tell. It was not for prudent, self-loving Egyptians 
to say, least of all to explore the bush under a mistaken 
sense of duty. For the Dervishes were wilier than Satan, 
and the Baggara horsemen worse than winged fiends. 

The Scots pasha made a remark in his mother tongue 
which his A.D.C. repeated in the proper quarter, with such 
embellishments as seemed desirable. On his own account 
the aide added : “ When you have found a man who is not 
afraid of a mimosa bush, the chief will be glad to hear from 
you.” And with an ironical grin he galloped away. 

The sergeant-major heard the taunt of his countryman, 
and his heart burned within him. So this was what all 
his efforts were worth — a stinging sarcasm ? He had been 
a mere riding-master when he fancied himself an instructor 
in the art of war. 

“ Ugh,” he muttered, looking with contempt on the 
tawny squadrons. “ I’d give six months’ pay to see five 
hundred British lances cutting you up — you — you parcel 
of old women.” 

What followed immediately on the muttering need not 
be recorded. But a little later the camp was quickened 
to a tingling expectancy by the sight of a bunch of horse- 
men on the sky-line ahead. 

“ The enemy’s scouts ; they’re coming — they’re com- 
ing ! ” The cry ran like an electric current, and long-dis- 
appointed men drew deep breaths of satisfaction. Oh, that 
the enemy would attack or wait ! 

The horsemen dropped beyond the sky-line ; then sud- 
denly reappeared with galloping squadrons behind them. 
Allah be praised ! It was true ; they were coming at last 
— they were verily coming. In one Egyptian camp, at 
least, there arose a clamour of preparation, and ebony faces 


328 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

gleamed in joy. Then came a swift wave of disgust, ex- 
pressed in deep-throated execrations. The cavalry had 
halted on the ridge, looked down for a moment, then 
wheeled and galloped back before a gun could be unlim- 
bered to salute. But they had shown themselves, and that 
was something. 

Meanwhile, the little band that had been first espied 
rose out of a dip in the land and trotted towards the 
camp of the Highland brigadier. 

‘‘ Why,” one watcher exclaimed, “ they're our own men. 
Had no idea they were out.” 

The brigade-major, who was standing by, turned his 
glass on them. Yes, beyond doubt they were Gippy 
cavalry ; but where the devil had they been, and what 
had they been doing ? They were presently to answer 
for themselves. On they came at a swinging trot, and 
at the regulation distance the leading man, who bore a 
sergeant-major’s stripes, drew up, saluting the brigade- 
major. For an instant a look of sheer astonishment shone 
in the brigade-major’s eyes; the face of the sergeant was 
a study in military impassivity. A non-com. must not be 
amazed at anything. So he reported briefly what he had 
seen, which was practically the entire disposition of the 
enemy. He had ridden within three hundred yards of their 
rifles, drawn their fire and then their cavalry, and returned 
scathless, bringing the intelligence that was wanted. 

“ Whose orders have you been carrying out, sergeant ? ” 
asked the brigade-major, choking down his surprise. 

The sergeant sat his horse a little more tightly. He had 
just seen a chance and taken it. The brigade-major’s eyes 
twinkled. 

“ I have a great mind, sergeant, to order you under arrest 
for a grave breach of discipline,” he said. “ You set a bad 
example. You see you and all your men might have been 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 329 

killed or made prisoners, and we cannot risk the army in 
that fashion. Ride on and report to your proper officer.” 

And saluting again, the sergeant obeyed. 

From the proper quarter there reached the brigadier the 
news for which he was waiting ; and the brigadier passed 
it on to the Scots pasha, who crooned sweetly to himself as 
he sent a despatch to the sirdar. And when the whole army 
was happy in anticipation of battle the brigade-major said 
something to the brigadier, who in turn said something to 
the general of division, which resulted in an order that be- 
cause of a certain breach of discipline which merited severe 
punishment, Sergeant-Major Buchanan was henceforth to 
ride at the head of a squadron. That evening, too, the 
brigade-major sent for him, and for a full hour differences 
of rank were forgotten. 


CHAPTER VIII 


The machine moved yet further into the wilderness ; 
and then one great day there tore across the stricken field 
of Omdurman a whirlwind of Egyptian cavalry. It was 
the last sweep of the awful besom of vengeance ; and 
Mahdism was no more. Again and again the despised 
fellah had faced the dreaded Baggara — faced and charged 
through, and trampled his broken ranks — to the eternal 
justification of British discipline. The final day was a day 
of valour and great slaughter. For the khalifa, relying on 
naked heroism and the rush of fifty thousand warriors 
frantic for victory or Paradise, had done the worst he could 
do : come into the open against lines of red flame, against 
Maxim and battery, belching death with scientific precision. 
Never before in all the centuries had the desert witnessed 
such a spectacle of destruction, never before drunk so much 
blood in one little while. The Dervishes came forth to 
conquer or die, and they fell before the white man’s fire 
like a forest levelled by tempest. 

The khalifa had vaunted that his leaping warriors had 
already broken a British square. They meant to do it 
again, and but for consummate generalship they would 
probably have succeeded. It chanced that a particular 
Egyptian brigade offered a tempting point of attack, and 
when the battle was thought to be lost and won, suddenly, 
as if they sprang out of the earth, a new host descended 
howling on this brigade, bent on annihilation. But watch- 
ing the onset was the Highland brigadier, and to him fell 
the glory of furnishing the army with a new object-lesson in 
tactics. He had caught his men wild, trained and nursed 

330 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 331 

them, and they looked to him as to a guardian angel, black 
faces and brown breaking into a beaming confidence when 
he spoke. And now in the dire crisis, when the fate of 
battle hinged on fifteen minutes of the right work, he 
handled them like one inspired. Famous tacticians have 
since sung his praise in superlatives ; then every man under 
him simply marvelled as he obeyed. For in face of what 
seemed an overwhelming attack the front of the brigade 
changed thrice, magically as on a pivot. But for that 
instant bettering of the drill book, four battalions would 
have been cut up and the avenging tide swept resistless 
upon the columns behind. Some say that the battle of 
Omdurman was won by the genius of the Gael inspiring 
and transforming Soudanese blacks. However that may 
be, things fell exactly as the brigadier planned. What 
he felt when the attack wavered and broke he did not 
tell ; but his eyes gleamed as the Egyptian cavalry tore 
past and fell in a dust-cloud upon the remnant that flew 
with the green flag. When presently they returned with 
their prisoners, the face of one squadron leader was as 
red as their lance-points. Half an hour before he had 
flatly refused to obey the order to fall out. 

“ Fall out, sir ? he cried, wiping the blood out of his 
eyes. It’s fall in and keep in to-day, sir,” and rode on. 

He cantered back, blind with running blood, but happy, 
exceedingly happy ; for the Gippy cavalry was vindicated 
forever, and the field showed five-and-twenty thousand 
fallen men. 

“ A nice battue, sir,” he remarked lightly to the brigade- 
major. “ Unexampled in the annals of such sport, I should 
think.” 

Upon which he went off to be washed, bandaged, and 
informed whether his wounds were mortal. Within an 
hour he was on the track of the khalifa j but the wilder- 


332 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 


ness proved kind to the fugitive. He was gone, as goes 
the Arab, like the morning mist, and the cavalry returned 
from the hunt disappointed. 

Meanwhile the triumphant Briton stood, according to 
arrangement, where Gordon fell, the Imperial flag flying 
in sovereignty over him, and made a speech of congratula- 
tion to the troops. As he spoke the desert wind wailed as 
for its deadj and the waters of old Nile, crisped by the 
breeze, flashed upon the standard of the invader thus 
strangely planted in the field of a dateless antiquity. One 
might imagine that the eye of a prehistoric monster, open- 
ing an instant, glimmered in wonder at the unspeakable 
things that were coming to pass. 

We trench here on shining matters of history. The 
world remembers how there seized England one of her 
periodical fits of hero-worship. More than ten thousand 
slain foes on the field j more than fifteen thousand wounded, 
and thousands of prisoners — the thing meant prodigious 
bravery backed by prodigious skill, and a rejoicing country 
shouted in triumph from innumerable throats. Waterloo 
was overshadowed by the red glory of Omdurman. One 
or two of the chief actors emerged for a moment into the 
electric light of banquets, ovations, and State functions. 
Then the world passed on. 

The rank and file fared according to the law which 
governs rank and file. Praise and thanks were bestowed 
in a General Order as frigid as an Arctic night. There 
followed a distribution of minor honours, on the happy 
lottery principle, and a reshuffling of the cards, which 
brought promotion to some and chagrin to others. Then 
all were counselled to be good boys till they were needed 
again, and handed back by a grateful nation into the keep- 
ing of their grandmother in Pall Mall. In the mysterious 
dispensations of that venerable lady, some came home on 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 333 

leave ; and with a throbbing heart Aberfourie prepared for 
a reception. But the reception was not to be just yet, for 
the dear old grandmother, taking counsel with herself, 
decided that for the present certain persons should remain 
in Egypt. Wherefore Aberfourie had to wait. But letters 
came which made hearts dance, for Aberfourie had done 
well at Omdurman. Ivor mentioned Archy with a soldier’s 
praise, which the general hastened to publish, with illustra- 
tive notes and comments. Half an hour after receiving 
the letter he was at Bank House. 

“Buchanan,” he cried, bursting unceremoniously upon 
the banker, “hang me if Saul isn’t among the prophets. 
There’s news for you.” 

The banker, interrupted in the midst of a thorny problem 
set by head office, read with a queer face. 

“ Ah ! ” he said, drawing a long breath to conceal his 
emotion. “ This is just the goodness of Ivor.” 

“ It’s just the courage and dash of Archy,” corrected the 
general. “ A soldier doesn’t say what he doesn’t mean 
about a comrade in action. I congratulate you ; my faith 
is justified. Now, my friend, I want a favour of you.” 

“ I cannot remember that I ever refused you,” replied 
the banker. “ Ask on.” 

“Well, then, you’ll just write to the boy, and tell him 
how glad and proud you are. He has done well, and is 
only beginning, if I’m any judge. Now don’t delay until 
your gladness grows cold. Do it while you’re in the 
humour. In such cases caution is a fool and hesitancy a 
coward.” 

“ I’m writing to head office,” said the banker, his face 
taking on an anxious look. 

“ Oh, damn head office ! ” retorted the general. “ Your 
son is more to you than ten thousand head offices. Now, 
like a good fellow, just write at once.” 


334 the eternal QUEST 

By that evening’s post a letter, partly written by the 
banker, partly by his wife, was despatched to Egypt, and 
in due time came one in reply, the first Archy wrote 
home since that dark day in Edinburgh when he seemed 
to cut off past and friends at a stroke. It brought heart- 
shaking joy to Bank House, a joy that radiated upon the 
manse and Tigh-an-Eas like sunshine after clouds. 

Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael were solemnly glad, but Col- 
eena, and Marjorie, who came from Edinburgh expressly 
to share the glee, and Flo, and even the adjutant-general, 
were openly jubilant. The general smoked in deep satis- 
faction. 

There’s great times at our house,” Peter, the gardener, 
told a bevy of cronies. “ I could do wi’ a battle every 
day, if it opened hearts and turned spigots in this way. 
The auld wife — that’s no wife ava by the way — is as pleas- 
ant as ye please. It’s ‘ Peter ye’ve been workin’ hard,’ or 
‘ It’s a hot day and ye’ll be dry ; just step in by, and see if 
the housekeeper has anything worth drinkin’.’ And it’s 
just wonderfu’,” added Peter, “how a man’s thirst rises to 
the occasion. It’s grand.” 

In the letter Archy told a little of his own doings, but 
on the doings of his old rival he dwelt eloquently and in 
detail. 

“Just what I should expect from Archy,” Coleena cried 
in a delicious glow, and in confidence to Marjorie. “ I’m 
not sure, dear, that you did right in refusing him.” 

A meaning light came into Marjorie’s eye. 

“ I’m sure, dear,” she answered, smiling. “ And I’m 
glad to hear you praise him, because he’s as good as he’s 
brave.” 

Coleena flushed, despite an elaborate unconcern. 

“ Oh,” she rejoined, “ I like him because he says nice 
things about Ivor.” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 335 

‘‘ And a little for himself,” said Marjorie. 

“ Because you’re in love yourself, you imagine everybody 
else must be in love also,” retorted Coleena, and turned 
abruptly away. 

In the midst of all this simmer and flutter of bliss one 
thing puzzled, and at odd moments troubled, the general. 
He had issued an order cancelling Ivor’s engagement — if 
the boyish attachment had gone so far — and to that order 
there was no manner of reply or response. Had it miscar- 
ried ? Was it ignored ? 

“ It would be like the rascal to tear it up and scatter it to 
the winds,” he reflected ; but immediately he added : “ No, 
he would fight.” 

Once or twice he was on the point of bringing up the 
matter with Mr. Carmichael ; but friendship and good taste 
alike forbade. He must wait and watch, and the waiting 
and the watching did not reassure. He had scored in the 
banker’s affair j was he to fail in his own ? 


CHAPTER IX 


In her own oblique dark way, Destiny was even then 
preparing an answer. Far in the south there arose a tiny 
cloud, to which none gave serious heed, till it waxed to the 
overshadowing of an empire. Then, while the nation 
looked abroad, startled and incredulous, the thunderbolt fell. 
For an old man at the head of a simple herdsman people 
of patriarchal principles had called his burghers to arms and 
flung defiance at the mightiest power on earth. The act 
seemed the jest of a madman, and England hardly knew 
whether to be scornful or angry. Presently she was both ; 
but in the first instance she was nonplussed, for the thing 
was beyond any insolence of infatuated pride she could 
have expected, and her journeymen rulers left her open to 
attack. Three days she awaited in a seething excitement 
the issue of the insolence. On the fourth infatuated pride 
took its way. A little later, her outposts, watching in the 
dawn, heard the shriek of a hostile shell, and ere sunset 
British blood was spilt. Thereupon the air rang with cries 
of vengeance on the man thus guilty of the sin of witch- 
craft. He was seven thousand miles away, however, and 
if he took it into his crazy head to be as sanguinary in deed 
as in word, anything might happen. The land throbbed 
with military ardour, resounded with the clamour and 
clangour of war. Purblind officialdom was pushed and 
hounded to its neglected duty. The insulted flag must 
forthwith be planted in the capital of the invader. 

To thousands of heroic spirits dying of ennui in clubs 
and drawing-rooms the task seemed a delectable picnic till 
it was discovered that the simple herdsmen were ideal fight- 
336 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 337 

crs, as herdsmen usually are when roused, and armed to the 
highest pitch of science, as simple herdsmen usually are 
not. Disaster upon disaster befell the British arms, because 
of incompetency and the tragic misreading of facts. That 
roused the nation, and immediately the seas were dotted 
with troopships speeding from the four quarters, with army 
corps and volunteer irregulars to a number unprecedented ; 
and to command the biggest army she ever put in the field 
England sent forth the soldier of her heart. But here we 
are again in the highway of history, and must drop into the 
byways of private story. 

When it was rumoured that England was verily in straits, 
those who had crushed the Dervish were eager to crumple 
the Boer. Among the earliest gratified in the desire to fight 
was Captain (Brevet Major) Malcolm, who was ordered to 
join his battalion at the Cape. At last, after weary, jealous 
waiting, that battalion was once more to get a chance ; and 
it was feverishly anxious lest the Boer might not hold out 
till it got at him. The pipes played it on board in the driz- 
zle of an autumn morning, and England sent it off with 
plaudits to its fitness and form. If ever troops were meant 
for victory, these were the men. So all who saw them felt, 
so they felt themselves, as with rousing esprit de corps they 
thought of glory to be won, names to be added to their 
colours. 

Lieutenant Buchanan likewise asked permission to fight, 
but the powers that were answered they had still need of 
him in Egypt. Whereupon, weighing the prospects of an 
officer with no backing but his own head and right hand, 
and the chances of war withal, he wired a certain message 
to a great newspaper, the London Tribune^ said a regretful 
farewell to the Gippy cavalry, and posted to the south, an 
accredited war-correspondent. The general growled in 
anger at the choice. ‘‘ Throwing up a commission won 


338 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

from the ranks to take to scribbling he cried. “To 
scribbling ! ” he repeated, as if repetition were the only 
means by which he could express his contempt. But the 
Tribune knew it had drawn a prize and announced its satis- 
faction in big type, which dazzled some eyes in Aber- 
fourie. 

Ivor was at Table Bay before his regiment, and spent 
three weeks of restless, strenuous idleness. He ran to the 
front, saw something of the devastating power of naval 
guns and Long Toms, of Mauser and Maxim-Nordenfeldt 
quick-firers when handled on the latest principles of destruc- 
tion, and doubled back to meet his comrades. As soon as 
the troopship steamed within bounds, there scrambled on 
board a particularly lithe, hard, brown-faced khaki figure 
whom none at first recognised. But after a moment there 
rose a cry of “ Great Heavens, Malcolm ! ” and old friends 
and new clustered about him asking a hundred questions in 
a breath. How was he How was the war ? Not col- 
lapsing, they hoped. What were the chances of a good 
thumping fight ? Was there really sport at the front ? and 
finally congratulations, and how did a man feel on getting 
mentioned in despatches ? 

“ By Jove, sir,’’ cried a smooth-faced youngster before 
he could answer, “ that was splendid at Omdurman, when 
the 3d Soudanese licked the drill book.” 

Malcolm turned on the boy an amused face. 

“You’d like to have been there ? ” he asked. 

“ Rather ; but the Boers ought to yield as good sport as 
the Dervishes, if they just hold out till we get at them.” 

His eyes shone, and he stood an inch higher on that pros- 
pect of glory. Poor boy ! A few weeks later he was lying 
front down on the veldt, his dead face dabbled in blood, and 
far away in the north a mother was weeping for an only 
son whom she could not even bury. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 339 

“Yes,” returned Malcolm significantly, “I think you 
may expect good sport. I have already seen two hillsides 
strewn with the pick of the British army, dead or wounded. 
The Mauser and the Pom pom will give you all the fun 
you want. The Boer is a fighter.” 

“ Where are we going ? ” asked another. 

“ In the First Division to the diamond mines, and there’s 
an order to hurry up.” 

“ What ! ” cried a senior officer, “ Kimberley not re- 
lieved yet ? ” 

“ Not yet, sir. Cronje is still across the path.” 

“ Great Scot ! ” exclaimed the senior officer, “ what have 
they been doing ? ” 

He did not know Cronje. 

As Malcolm said, the order to the Highlanders was 
peremptory to hurry up, for they were sorely needed at the 
front. Thrice the dark Cronje had been hit and driven 
from his position by shell and bayonet, at a cost which 
those hastening forward could dimly reckon for themselves 
by ubiquitous doctors and nurses, and trains of wounded 
shunted into sidings, to make way for the fresh troops. 
Most of the men, being new to war, were depressed by the 
succession of bandaged heads and ghastly faces j nor were 
their spirits raised by the tales they heard. 

“ I was in two fights,” said a wrecked piece of humanity 
that but a little while before had been a strapping guards- 
man. “ And what did I find ? Why, just this : men 
spinning and crying out and dropping all round, and not a 
blooming Boer in sight.” 

“ I thought,” remarked the boy aforementioned, “ that 
you were among them with the bayonet.” 

“ Oh, yes ; when we got at their trenches, then we 
made them scud. But as a general thing, what you’ve got 
to do is to fight bloody kopjes spitting hell fire at you. It’s 


340 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

a new kind of war this, that Mister Boer has invented all 
for himself, and if you like it you’re welcome.” 

They were at De Aar, and while he spoke a train of 
mangled men, long overdue, crawled into the junction. 

If you don’t believe me, there you are,” he cried, with 
a wave of the arm towards the train. “ There’s ‘ the work 
of brother Boer, the simple gentleman that don’t know 
how to fight.’ Good-bye, mates. Some of us’ll never 
meet again,” and he hobbled off to get the latest news from 
the front. 

At De Aar, too, the correspondent of the Tribune over- 
took them. He glanced at the Highlanders in passing, ex- 
changing greetings and wishing them luck, and pressed on, 
lest he should miss a fight. 

The Highlanders, too, pressed on, urged by a general 
who waited with fagged men on the Modder. For not- 
withstanding his frequent and forced retirements, Cronje’s 
back was stiffening, and Kimberley, unable to eat diamonds, 
was signalling its distress and asking when it might expect 
relief. Therefore, sweating, harassed transport officers had 
to clear all and let the troops pass. As these advanced 
evidences of war increased appallingly, and stories were 
told of wondrous artillery duels, in which British artillerists 
had not always the best of it. The officers listened, com- 
pared judgments, and requested for God’s sake to be let on. 

They detrained at last and marched two score miles. 
Then one evening near set of sun they sighted the low 
hills about the Modder — hills where Briton and Boer lay 
watching each other like tigers resting for the spring. The 
pipes played the brigade gallantly into camp, and the army 
turned out to cheer, for much was expected of the High- 
landers. 


CHAPTER X 


On a Sunday afternoon, when people at home were 
sleeping off the effects of the morning sermon, the British 
artillery swung into position; and the 4.7 gun began 
blithely to rend into brown clouds a kopje four miles away, 
the smaller guns joining in the concert according to range 
and capacity. There ensued a five hours’ pandemonium. 
For the general-in-chief having all ready, had determined 
to strike home and make a start by ferreting the foe out of 
his lair with lyddite. Wherever it was thought a Boer 
could lurk, there the shrieking minister of death smote, 
tearing to chaos and poisoning with its green fumes. Men 
who fancied themselves familiar with war looked on in awe 
and wonder. The gunners alone remained unmoved, be- 
cause they knew their roaring, banging pets with the lover’s 
subtle knowledge. Moreover, they were too busy to won- 
der, though they were not above a calm pride in providing 
the army with a spectacle. The general, looking through 
his glass, was pleased with the exhibition of demonic 
power. A straw-hatted, self-possessed gentleman who 
waited on the 4.7 condensed the common feeling into a 
sentence. 

“ In a little while,” he remarked, watching with great 
satisfaction the effects of a shell, “ there won’t be no 
bloomin’ coppee left, if ye ask me. ’Ope as Mister 
Crongee’s enjoyin’ the fun ; but why don’t the beggar 
answer ? ” 

The artillery devastated until sunset; then rested and 
ate on its firing ground. It had thrown half the mountain 
into the air without receiving so much as one spurt of 

341 


342 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

reply, and that was disappointing; for a gunner is not 
happy unless he draws the fire of the other side. Besides, 
when the fire is silent, the commander-in-chief has need 
of scouts who can spy the invisible, and a brain to foil or 
circumvent the craft of Satan. 

While the artillery was shattering rocks, flinging up 
earth, and incidentally, it was hoped, putting a wholesome 
terror into the heart of a hidden foe, a body of infantry 
moved quietly forward under the protection of the guns. 
At nightfall the men bivouacked miserably in rain ; but 
they hardly felt the misery because of the grim excitement 
which vibrated along the ranks. Ere another day’s sun 
went down, watchers at home would be reading of great 
deeds, if happily the enemy would stand. The night fell 
sullenly, a mass of brooding cloud above, a thick drench- 
ing drizzle beneath. For a little the big kopje ahead was 
outlined, a monster heap, against the dark sky. Then sud- 
denly it was blotted out, and the blackness of the pit pos- 
sessed the land. 

At midnight the men rose from the soaked, spongy 
ground, and shook themselves, peering into the night. 
There was nothing for eye or ear to mark. Darkness 
and silence held the world as in the hush of death. Not 
a breathing thing seemed to move. What was “ the lion 
of Africa” about? Was he crouched somewhere in that 
blackness ready for havoc, or had he fled ? There were 
some who almost pitied, thinking what was in store for 
him. 

The honours were to be for the Highlanders, who were 
fresh and eager for the rush. Orders were passed in low 
voices, and at dead of night, drenched and foodless, the 
Highland Brigade, formed in mass of quarter-columns, 
moved out to annihilate an unseen foe, the Black Watch 
leading. On foot beside it walked the brigadier, the only 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 343 

man there who knew whither they were bound and what 
they were ordered to do. Why he did not tell his battalion 
commanders may be surmised, but cannot be stated with 
certainty. Doubtless his reasons were good ; but they 
were never given. 

In all the four quarters of the world it would have been 
hard to match that brigade, impossible to surpass it. Hearts 
beat high. As yet there had been no decisive action ; there 
should be now, or the Highlanders would know why. Yet 
on the thin face of their chief a little time before some 
noted a singular gloom. In the light of the setting sun, 
when orders had been received and all was ready, the brig- 
adier was observed regarding the three-mile kopje ahead 
with a look which a brother Scot afterwards called “ fey.” 
It may have been pure fancy in the observer. The briga- 
dier had known wounds and the ecstasy of the charge ; but 
never one pulse of fear. Nor was there now in that gallant 
heart the smallest cold throb of quailing. The chieftain 
was where he would be — at the head of the kilted clansmen. 
For all that, as he led them into the inky, ominous night, 
may not uneasy premonitions have stirred his breast ? Who 
knows but in that black moment there ran in his head 
echoes of the weird legends of Ticonderoga and the for- 
tune-tellings of some foolish spae wife in Scotland. At 
any rate, Ivor, who had known him in Egypt and now 
walked close by his side, noticed that he was taciturn be- 
yond ordinary. 

Three hours the brigade crept on, keeping touch, with 
no sound but muffled commands and the dull trampling 
of many feet. It tripped often, and paused in picking its 
way over rough ground or round thorn and Vaal bushes. 
But it carried itself in the old Highland spirit— the spirit 
of the leashed hound straining to get at the quarry — and 
as it progressed, secure in the thought of victory, one 


344 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

marched beside it of whose existence it little dreamed, 
pausing as it paused, going as it went, stealthily keeping 
near and watching with cat-eyes — a Boer scout. He knew 
that his temerity meant death, that the instant he did his 
duty the magazines of his comrades’ rifles would be emptied 
into his body. Yet he kept pace undaunted, as unperceived 
in the mirk night. 

They had marched nearly three miles when some one 
spied the looming top of the kopje and ventured to ask 
the brigadier whether it were not time to deploy. The 
brigadier ducked to catch the outline, and the next minute 
the leading battalion, which was the Black Watch, got the 
order to extend. Instantly, on the right, the Boer scout 
flashed his dark lantern, and like the lightning from the 
cloud there leaped out of the blackness in front a sheet of 
flame and the crash of musketry. In the same moment the 
Boer searchlight shot against the sky, dipped, darted to and 
fro, searching fiendishly, picked out the doomed battalions, 
and held them in its glare. Taking the fire in quarter- 
column and at close range, the Highlanders fell in heaps. 
For half a minute the brigade stood dazzled and bewildered, 
the hurricane of lead tearing and ripping through it ; then 
went up the howls and cries of frenzied men. In the 
centre the brigadier was waving his sword. He fell to his 
knees, rose, staggered towards the belching pit in front, and 
again fell, riddled. Ivor, who chanced to be near, sprang to 
his side. 

‘‘ Not hit, sir ? ” cried Malcolm, supporting him. 

The dying man looked up in the hellish glare, acute 
sorrow mingled with the death anguish in his face. 

“ My poor Highlanders,” he murmured — “ my poor 
Highlanders. What a pity ! Tell them not to blame 
me. 

His head fell, and the brigade was without a leader. 


345 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

It did not know ; it did not care. It was frantic. 
First, like a wounded lion, it sprang for the flame-lit 
trenches, of which a minute before it knew nothing ; but 
the blizzard of lead tore it yet more wickedly, and, shat- 
tered to fragments, it reeled and broke. It had been made 
to play blindman’s buff with death, and the penalty was 
such as mortals could not endure. 

That unparalleled scene of slaughter and panic has been 
the theme of many pens. One correspondent, doing his 
first battle, told from the soldier’s point of view what hap- 
pened, his heart burning with indignation. 

“ Thus,” wrote Mr. Archibald Buchanan in the Tribune^ 
“ it has fallen to me to record what never before happened 
in all the history of Highland regiments fighting the battles 
of England. Let not the people at home blame the High- 
land Brigade. It fell into an ambush because some one 
had blundered fearfully, because the blind searched and the 
deaf hearkened, and it came out a remnant. Theoret- 
ically, scouting still forms a part of our military system ; 
one must regret it should be obsolete in practice. At the 
Maghersfontein trenches the brigade had not the chance to 
fight; and, swept and crumpled by a torrent of fire, it 
turned momentarily demoralised, frantic to escape from that 
zone of death. Officers wept in rage as they shouted 
orders to rally. Company mixed with company, regiment 
with regiment, in the trampling terror. Had the enemy 
realised or pressed his advantage, had he shown half the 
dash of the Dervishes at Omdurman, the Kimberley column 
had been scattered to atoms.” 

The Highlanders, happily, were still — Highlanders. 
Three hundred yards from the rifle-pits the remnants of 
the brigade faced about, reformed, shuddering in shame 
and pain, and there lay down, waiting the opportunity to be 
avenged. In that position the dawn found them, grim 


346 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

faces wet with tears, great shoulders heaving with sobs of 
rage. Oh, God ! to get at those infernal pits. In desper- 
ation, haggard, wild-eyed men rose and rushed forward ; 
but nothing made of flesh and blood could meet the hail 
that poured on them, and officer and man dropped flat 
again, happy to be screened by an ant-hill. The trampled 
veldt grass gleamed a dull red : the dead were strewn thick. 
For fifteen hours the wounded and whole lay under a blis- 
tering sun and a double cross fire. The madness of thirst 
seized some ; the madness of unstrung nerves others ; 
and wherever head or limb moved, there a shower of bullets 
instantly fell. Men suffered more in that ignominious 
helplessness than in all the fury of the first repulse. 

“ My God, sir, I can’t stand this,” croaked a sergeant 
lying close by Ivor. “ I must have a drink.” 

His tongue was swollen, his baked lips were cracking. 

“ Lie still, or you’ll be shot,” was the reply. 

“ Better so,” cried the man, and staggered to his feet. 
He had not gone three yards when he was on his face 
without any thought of thirst. 

“ What marksmanship ! ” remarked Ivor to his next 
neighbour. The only response was a grunt and a kicking 
of heels, and turning his eyes, Malcolm saw that another 
bullet had found its billet. So the day went, shells scream- 
ing like fiends overhead, the lower air humming with 
Mauser bullets, and men turning quietly over as if to sleep, 
or leaping up with sudden cries and falling back with 
groans. Ivor’s escape was to himself a miracle. All 
round him the ground was pockmarked. One bullet 
chipped his helmet j another neatly took a button off his 
jacket. During the first hour he was a dozen times on the 
point of springing up to do something. But as time passed 
he ceased to care for the continuous plup-plup, and lay 
thinking. What would his father say to a British officer 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 347 

stretched on tne veldt und sfruid to budge because of a 
parcel of Boers ? What would Marjorie think ? Was it 
a case of funk ? He squirmed, and a bullet ricocheted off 
his boot heel, leaving a stinging sensation. Thereafter for 
an eternity he lay very still. He grew desperately thirsty, 
and remembered that some time before the final act he had 
given the dead sergeant his water-bottle. Could he get 
the water-bottle of some one who no longer needed it ? 
He considered the question for a while ; then fell to think- 
ing of the wonders of machine guns. Express trains 
seemed to be rushing above him, and the ground shook 
as with an earthquake. 

Once more he thought of his water-bottle. At all 
hazards he must have water. The sergeant was right; 
it was better to take chances than die of slow scorching 
and broiling. With great craft he moved along half a 
dozen yards on his stomach. Instead of a water-bottle, 
however, he got a rifle. “ Well, well,” he said to himself, 
“ anything for variety,” and began to blaze away. Presently 
his ammunition gave out, and he went over all his thoughts 
again, the thirst fast becoming a torture. Was this to go 
on forever ? What were the other fellows doing ? 

“ Ho ! ” he called hoarsely. “ Is everybody dead ? ” 

“ Got any water ? ” came in feeble response. 

“ Wish I had. WhaPs happening ? ” 

“ Oh,” replied the other, who was a private and did 
not recognise his officer’s voice, “ don’t you know? We’re 
in hell for another man’s sin.” 

So the day wore through its eternal fifteen hours. At 
last the sun ceased to blister, the fire slackened, stopped, a 
cold darkness fell. Then the men who had gone forth to 
conquer crept miserably back into camp. As they went, 
the Kimberley heliograph flashed in the darkness. 

When are you coming ? ” it asked. 


348 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

A limping man shook his fist and cursed. 

“ Oh, go to blazes ! ” he cried. “Fight for yourselves.** 
Then he turned a white face to the Cronje trenches. 
“You black devil, we*ll have you yet,** he muttered — 
“ we*ll have you yet.** 


CHAPTER XI 


Next morning the sun rose brilliantly in a sapphire sky, 
smiling as if no angel of death had smitten with his black 
wing. An armistice being arranged, Briton and Boer col- 
lected their dead ; and the lists were compiled, which sent 
a shock of despair through all the homeland. 

Laying aside his pistols, Archy went out with the sur- 
geon-major in charge of an ambulance party, and near the 
enemy's lines was searched and blindfolded, for the Boers 
would give no secrets to prying eyes. But they were sym- 
pathetic and courteous ; and Britain's dead were gathered 
decently to their long rest by the yellow Modder ; while, 
far off among the northern heather, widows, orphans, and 
mothers wailed or moaned for those who would never re- 
turn. On the very edge of the trenches some of the fallen 
men were found, their rifles still held in a desperate grip ; it 
was noted, too, that more than one bayonet was red. Even 
in the first furious swirl of lead and fire a few had reached 
striking distance, and done for their men, falling as they 
struck. Now they were lifted tenderly under the eye and 
direction of a foe who might have been a brother, so com- 
passionately he did his office. 

“ We honour your soldiers," one Boer said ; “ but where 
are your generals We have but to set a trap, and the 
game walks into it." 

The dead heroes were wrapped in their blankets, officer 
and man alike, reverently, as befitted martyrs. Then after 
the day's dread harvest the great stillness was broken by the 
wail of the Highland pipes ; and two armies stood behold- 
ing the remnant of a brigade bringing its chief to burial. 

349 


350 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

Slowly, with arms reversed, it marched to the melting 
pathos of “The Flowers of the Forest,” its beloved leader 
in the midst, borne on the shoulders of chosen comrades. 
Robed and bareheaded, the Highland chaplain led ; at his 
heels came the pipers, sounding the weird pibroch which 
told of bootless valour ; then the dark tartan of the 
Black Watch, and the heavy tread of heavy-hearted men 
behind. The black Cronje, looking forth from his ram- 
parts, felt a reckoning was to come. In the British 
camp hardened men gazed at the procession with emotions 
they did not care to express. 

On the bare veldt by the Modder River station a long 
grave had been dug, and there at the head of his men, in 
the midst of his officers, the dead chieftain was laid. In 
plaid and blanket they were rolled, and strong men bending 
to tuck them in sobbed silently. No shot was fired : only 
the chaplain pronounced the solemn familiar words, the 
farewell salute was given, the pipes wailed afresh in the 
strains of “ Lochaber no More,” and the heroes were left 
on the treeless, dreary veldt beside the willow-fringed 
Modder, many a hope, many an ambition, many a heart’s 
love buried with them. When all was over, Ivor and 
Archy shook hands silently. They had never dreamed of 
a meeting like this. 

The telegraphic accounts sent home were sub-edited by 
the military press censor with a beautiful disregard for pub- 
lic curiosity. To the sapient mind of the military press 
censor the public exists merely to be taxed and bullied, and 
can have no earthly concern with the conduct of generals 
or the cutting-up of soldiers. Therefore he eliminates all 
comment or criticism and most of the facts, from the mat- 
ter which he permits to be sent over the wires. Happily, 
when his editor is not an old woman or a blind partisan, 
the correspondent has a free hand in letters j and when de- 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 351 

tailed description began to supplement the bald fifty-word 
telegrams, the heart of Britain became yet sadder. The 
Tribune scored over its rivals, for its correspondent was a 
soldier and a Highlander, and as soldier and Highlander he 
described the abattoir of Maghersfontein. The despatch 
made a sensation in a time of sensations. It was copied, 
commented on, read everywhere, and incidentally made its 
writer famous, though in writing he had little thought of 
fame. 

“ If Maghersfontein did nothing else,’’ remarked a 
military critic in London, “ it would be notable for having 
brought out a new military writer of extraordinary power 
and courage, as well as of exact technical knowledge. 
There is a touch of genius in his appalling description.” 

Mr. Carmichael, being a subscriber to the Tribune^ was 
the first in Aberfourie to see the Maghersfontein letter. 
He read it, gasping ; then hastened to Tigh-an-Eas, where 
Coleena, having more breath, read it aloud to a palpitating 
household. 

At the last sentence the general sprang to his feet. 

“ Colin, Colin,” he cried, as in sudden agony, “ that you 
and I should live to hear such things of the Highland 
Brigade, the successors of Colin Campbell’s thin red line, 
the men who saved Lucknow and Cawnpore ! What did 
I say about Pall Mall ? All the lessons of all the wars we 
have ever had thrown to the winds, and the best troops in 
the world butchered by Boers.” 

He was quivering in pain and rage. 

“Well, papa, dear,” put in Coleena, hiding her own 
emotion to soothe his, “ it might be worse. Ivor has come 
out of it safely, and you see Archy singles him out for 
praise.” 

He turned on her a blazing face. 

^‘Safely,” he repeated— “ safely. Let me tell you it is 


352 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

nothing for a soldier to die in the right way. But such a 

thing as this ” He threw his arms about, as if to 

signify the anger and disgust he could not express in words. 

Come outside,” he cried, turning to Mr. Carmichael, “ I 
must have fresh air — or choke.” 

For two hours the pair tramped the lawn, and while her 
father criticised furiously, Coleena slipped away to the post 
office and despatched a message to Edinburgh. 

“ See to-day’s Tribune. Archy’s letter awful and splen- 
did,” she wired ; and immediately on receipt of the message 
Marjorie hurried out, bought a Tribune.^ and, fainting with 
excitement, turned into a confectioner’s shop to steady her 
nerves and read. At first she was sick with horror; then 
by degrees there stole over her a subtle feeling of pride. 
The whole business was very horrible — the darkness, the 
awful surprise, the tempest of fire that mowed down dazed, 
misguided men. She could hear that crash of musketry — 
yet more distinctly she could hear the crooning and moan- 
ing of stricken women, stealing away by themselves to 
weep. ‘‘ God help them,” she sobbed, when once more 
by herself. But through her tears there went up a prayer 
of thanks and gladness because some she loved came out of 
Tophet unscathed. More praise for Ivor — her Ivor. Oh, 
she had not lost him yet, despite the peril of war and the 
hostility of fathers. How brave he was ! How magnifi- 
cently, too, Archy wrote. He filled her very ears with the 
horrible din of battle, made her a spectator of the carnage. 
She shuddered : he wrote too well. But in the next 
breath she was praising his generosity. She had always 
known that at heart he was noble, and here was his nobility 
proved. She wondered if his father were reconciled, and 
knew his mother must be proud. 

Almost as these thoughts were racing through Marjorie’s 
mind, her father and the general were making their way to 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 353 

Bank House with felicitations. The general’s greeting was 
characteristic. 

“ Have you sent a message to Archy ? ” he demanded. 

The banker opened his eyes. 

“ Because if you haven’t,” continued the general, “ do 
it at once. He is the only man who has come out of that 
infernal Maghersfontein stew with credit. Since Carlyle 
told the story of Dunbar there has not been seen such a 
battle-piece in England. If I had a fiftieth part of his gift, 
the book on strategy had been finished long ago.” 


CHAPTER XII 


Meanwhile the crimson drama rolled on. The broken 
brigade gathered itself, took breath, and, reinforced under a 
new brigadier, awaited its chance to be avenged. One day 
the chance came. It was among the kopjes which nature 
has thoughtfully strewn over South Africa for the confusion 
of the Briton and the benefit of the Boer. Each side had 
peppered the other without pomp or satisfaction. Inglorious 
skirmishes and rear-guard actions sent many good men 
hence before their time, and left the survivors fretting and 
swearing. 

Now an army that puts its faith in frontal attacks, an 
army that ignores, or has never heard of, the tactics of 
Wellington and the fighting tribes of the Indian frontier, 
suffers grievously in rear-guard actions with a wily foe. 
The innocent Boer had said : “ The fool Englishman 

loves rear-guard actions ; he shall have them,” and de- 
voted himself assiduously to that form of sport, making big 
bags. 

But one day there came on the scene a general who had 
learned his business on the Indian frontier, where the baf- 
fling of craft is the A B C of military education. He took 
his men out to discover their discipline and temper, did a 
little flanking under arduous conditions, making a feint here 
and a feint there, all by way of test and experiment — and, 
true to tradition, the enemy bolted in confusion. 

“ They run, sir, they run,” a battalion commander cried 
excitedly. ‘‘ If we follow hard, we can smash them up.” 

“ Um, ah,” responded the general. ‘‘Want another 
rear-guard action, do they ? My compliments, and sorry 
354 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 355 

we can’t oblige them without a look at the spruits and 
dongas ahead.” 

He followed at his leisure ; and the amazed Boer, de- 
prived of the usual pot-shot and capture, exclaimed : 
“ Holloa, what’s the meaning of this ? Does the fool 
Englishman no longer believe in rear-guard actions ? ” 

Thereupon, considerably perturbed by the change of 
tactics, he spread himself over yet other kopjes, and lay 
down among the boulders to await developments. Not to 
disappoint an expectant enemy, the general arranged a little 
demonstration — that is to say, brought a few of his guns 
forward, and tore holes in the nearest kopje precisely as if 
he meant a time-honoured frontal attack. At the same 
time he gave a polite personal attention to the spies who 
swarmed in camp trying to sell hoary fowls and stale eggs. 
In profound secrecy he admitted that the guns were merely 
playing while he extricated his men from a hopeless posi- 
tion. To another, in yet deeper secrecy, he whispered that 
in very truth he was going to hazard all on a frontal attack. 
Then, having furnished the enemy with news, he slipped 
out in the darkness two battalions of infantry and some 
squadrons of cavalry, which disappeared as if swallowed by 
a flooded spruit. 

Since this is not a military history, never mind details. 
For six-and-thirty hours the front was held alert and inter- 
ested by the playful guns. Then all at once came a 
change — furious galloping of orderlies, hoarse commands, 
sharp bugle calls. Batteries thundered forward to short 
range, wheeled, unlimbered, and blazed lyddite and shrap- 
nel. The air hurtled with destruction. Another battle 
had begun in dead earnest, and God help the Boer. 

He set about helping himself with wondrous vigour and 
resource. Screaming and crashing vengefully, his shells 
reached the British ranks. Now it was an ammunition 


356 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

waggon that was splintered to matchwood, now a battery 
horse that rolled over, head and heels together, a fountain 
of blood ; then a gunner that gave the gasp and moan of 
sudden mutilation, for the Boer artillerists knew how to 
plant a gun : and with the savage baying of Krupp and 
howitzer mingled the quick, vicious note of Maxim and 
Pom pom and the ceaseless crackle of Lee-Metford and 
Mauser. The skill was mostly with the English; the luck, 
as usual, with the Boers. 

It is the glory of British infantry that it will attack any- 
thing — belching pit or unscalable rampart — if only its offi- 
cers lead. It faced both now, and present punishment and 
the memory of former wrongs made it press on with 
clenched teeth and a deep thirst for vengeance. There 
were restraining cries of “ Steady, men, steady ! Steady, 
Black Watch ! Steady, Seaforths ! ” 

But the Black Watch and the Seaforths had small ac- 
counts of their own to settle, which they burned to get out 
of hand. Therefore, they advanced at a pace which made 
naught of the wisdom of the drill book, and what was of 
greater consequence, sorely troubled their officers. 

The steep ascent was sown with ledges and precipices, 
and to skirt them the deviations were many. How it 
happened no man could tell, but almost in the moment of 
victory there befell one of the ‘‘ regrettable incidents ” 
which are apparently essential to the well-being of the 
British army. Watching his opportunity and profiting by 
ledges and precipices, the slim Boer drove a wedge into the 
attacking force. A minute later, a hundred Highlanders, 
with Captain Malcolm at their head, were engirdled by a 
ring of levelled Mausers. 

“ Hands up ; surrender ! came with a Dutch accent. 
The response was the click of steel, as the bayonets went 
home on the rifle points. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 357 

“ Don’t be fools ! ” a field-cornet sang out. “ Hands up ! ” 

It was death to resist, and the little band took it as such. 

“Highlanders,” said the leader, calmly turning to his 
men, “ have always known how to die, but never how to 
surrender. Charge ! ” Upon which there broke from the 
set faces a resounding cry of “ Scotland forever ! ” and the 
sons of the heather drove with the bayonet full tilt into 
the breast of the Mauser hedge. Lions they were — lions 
trapped and determined to die taking it out of their trappers. 

Well for them, however, that the general had thought 
of emergencies and held other lions in leash against the 
time of need. While the defiant war-cry still rang, while 
clubbed rifle vainly dodged steel point, all at once there 
came a wild commotion on the flank, and like flying furies 
two squadrons of Lancers fell on the jumbled mass. 

Now in that terrific onset there rode one who had no 
right to be there. Getting wind of the cavalry movement, 
Archy had joined, by grace of an old comrade from Egypt. 
He rode an ancient raw-boned troop-horse which three 
crack correspondents had disdainfully declined at any price. 
Thirty-six hours before it bore him out by devious, un- 
tracked ways with no sign of interest or fervour. But in 
the interval it had fraternised with successors in govern- 
ment service as they rested with loosened girths among 
green mounds. The old spirit magically revived. More- 
over, it discovered with amazing quickness that it carried a 
fighter, and acted promptly on the discovery. When the 
trumpet gave the “ Advance,” it stepped out with the old 
familiar step; at the “Trot,” it trotted; and at the “Gal- 
lop,” it galloped. A staff officer, careering up at the mo- 
ment, yelled hoarsely : “ Back, sir, back. You know this is 
not your place,” and Archy laid on the great curb. But 
man and horse were excited, and at the “ Charge ” the old 
charger was not to be held. 


358 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ Very well,” said Archy, instinctively giving it the spurs. 

The rowels and a Mauser bullet struck together, and the 
old war-horse went down. Plump upon its sprawling rider 
came a lancer, squirting blood, and shrieking in the death 
agony. How he did it he never knew j but the next in- 
stant Archy was in the dead lancer’s saddle, hugging the 
dead man’s lance-shaft under his arm. A second after- 
wards, the maddened horse had overtaken its comrades, and 
Archy was riding the old ride, his point lowered to kill. 
No one tried to stop him now ; none had eyes to see or 
time to think that he was wantonly breaking regulations; 
so he went head long into the melee with the others. With 
crimson points they cut to the cornered Highlanders, 
swerved, went through the encircling Boers, wheeled and 
charged back. Such Boers as could, flew from destruction ; 
such as could not, stood, hands up, shouting for quarter. 
And all the while sharpshooters ensconced far above picked 
off horsemen and Highlander. 

As the Lancers tore by in the first charge Ivor thought 
he saw the craned head of Archy ; in the second charge 
Archy’s horse leaped two men, one kneeling over the other. 
A glimpse of the drawn face of the under man made the 
rider wheel like a flash. 

“ Officer? ” he called to the kneeling Highlander. 

“Yes, sir — Captain Malcolm,” answered the man. 

“ Good God,” cried Archy, leaping from his horse. 
“ Badly hit ? ” 

“Twice, sir,” replied the soldier. “You’re hit yourself, 
sir.” 

“ Didn’t know,” said Archy, wiping something that stung 
out of his eyes. “ It’s nothing.” 

He bent over the still figure of Ivor, and found blood 
oozing from the left side high up. 

“ Great Heavens ! not the heart ? ” he cried. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 359 

Ivor opened his eyes with the dazed look of one surprised 
in his sleep. 

“ Men Black Watch,” he said feebly ; and then, as if 
recovering himself : “ What’s up ? ” 

A bullet nipped the kneeling soldier in the hand, making 
him blaspheme; another ripped the shoulder of Archy’s 
jacket. 

“ The beggars, how they shoot ! ” he said. “ Captain 
Malcolm may have to lie here for hours. If he does, he’ll 
die. Get him on my horse quick.’" 

They swung the wounded man upon a dancing horse, 
and Archy vaulted up behind him. 

“ Not going to ride for it, sir ? ” cried the soldier in dis- 
may. 

Archy glanced ahead, to find a line of Boers creeping up 
to cut him off. 

“ Think you can hold on ? ” he bawled in Ivor’s ear. 

“ Certainly,” came the weak answer, and the fingers 
clutched instinctively. 

Archy threw his assistant the lance, took Ivor’s sword in 
his right hand, a revolver in his left, the reins in his teeth, 
and jammed the spurs. He leaped, leaned forward, fired 
at something, slashed at something else, felt a sharp sting 
in the temple — but plunged on. A squadron of Lancers 
herding two hundred prisoners and a Pom pom turned at 
the sound of galloping and saw a horseman making frantic- 
ally towards them with what appeared to be a dead body 
on the saddle before him. He was bareheaded, a red gash 
showed across his forehead, and he was blind with running 
blood. 

“Take him,” he cried, rocking like a drunken man, — 
“ take him,” and in the midst of a reeling world reeled out 
of the saddle. Those who looked on saw the vision of 
Mysie Nighean Alister fulfilled. 


CHAPTER XIII 


A DOSE of brandy, given without leave from the flask of 
a field-cornet, the same who had demanded surrender a lit- 
tle while before, set the correspondent on his feet again. 
The officer was not so easily restored. “ Severely wounded,’’ 
the surgeon reported, and gave minute directions to orderly 
and nurse. An assistant bound Archy’s chipped head, re- 
marking cheerily that if the bullet had swerved half an inch 
inward no surgeon would be necessary, and advised com- 
plete rest. 

“ Presently, doctor,” replied Archy. “ There’s the Trib- 
une^ you know,” and sat down to write, his back planted 
against a rock. Within thirty minutes his despatch-rider 
was galloping off with a message which sent his rival’s name 
ringing through the land from Dover to John O’Groat’s. 
But of his own adventure he made no mention. The gen- 
eral-in-chief, however, hearing of it, made inquiries, and 
invited him to explain his reasons for heaping contempt on 
British army regulations. 

“You know, Mr. Buchanan,” remarked the autocrat, 
with a twinkling glance at the bandaged head, “ correspond- 
ents do not accompany an army in the field for little diver- 
sions of this sort. I am not quite sure how your case 
ought to be dealt with, because you have gone and acted 
without precedent. That compels me also to act without 
precedent, and I hope you will be forever warned when I 
say I’m mentioning you in despatches. I fancy Pall Mall 
will have a fit. My congratulations — it was a very nice 
little affair indeed j but in future, when you mean to ride in 
360 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 361 

a charge, perhaps you will have the goodness to inform me 
of your intention.” 

And next day the war office published a despatch in which 
the names of Ivor and Archy were linked, with appropriate 
praise, for conspicuous gallantry under fire. 

Aberfourie was delirious with excitement. Bank House 
wildly congratulated Tigh-an-Eas, Tigh-an-Eas Bank 
House, and the manse both. Though the manse was but 
indirectly concerned, its rapture was unbounded. For Mar- 
jorie chanced to be at home, and to her the whole air was 
a magical elixir that made one dream sweet dreams and see 
rare visions. Despite Ivor’s wound, the general was glad, 
with a soldier’s grim, unobtrusive gladness. Flora and 
Coleena danced, their faces streaming, but not with grief ; 
and the adjutant-general, owning she was human after all, 
collapsed in a storm of tearful joy. At Bank House the 
badgerings of head office were forgotten, the disappoint- 
ments and chagrin of the past wiped out. The banker was 
speechless, and Mrs. Buchanan fell on the neck of Mrs. Car- 
michael with penitent sobs, her joy and pride brimming over. 

At the first reading Marjorie fled with the Tribune to her 
own room, where for a whole hour she was locked alone. 
She became visible again at Coleena’s threat to break in the 
door. When it was nervously unlocked, Coleena rushed in 
(Flora following to the best of her ability), caught Marjorie, 
and waltzed her round the room till both were breathless 
and giddy. Thereupon the three sat down together, and 
said wondrously wise and tender things to each other about 
the heroism of two men. Had the heroes listened to the 
apotheosis, they would scarcely have recognised themselves 
in the shining examples of all the virtues set up by maiden 
hearts. 

Through it all, however, Marjorie trembled foolishly, her 
gladness dashed by fear. 


362 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ Severely wounded,” she repeated — “ severely wounded. 
They wouldn’t say that if it weren’t very bad.” 

“Well,” cried Coleena in reproof, “and is severely 
wounded a death sentence ? The Malcolms, my dear, are 
hard to kill.” 

Whereupon Flora, as the elder, and responsible for dis- 
cipline, rebuked Coleena for lightness of speech and be- 
haviour. 

Coleena bowed sedately, and passed on. 

“ Isn’t Archy splendid ? ” she cried in a fresh burst of 
admiration, more eloquent than she guessed. “ They’ll 
both have the V.C.” 

The better-informed Flora again rebuked. 

“You silly girl,” she said. “ How can a civilian get the 
V.C., which is purely military ? ” 

Coleena ducked in mock submission. 

“ ’Tis not in mortals to command recognition — from the 
war office,” she returned gravely ; “ all they can do, poor 
things, is to deserve it. The old lady of Pall Mall, as papa 
calls her, can, of course, please herself ; but it’s published 
to the world that Archy deserves the V.C., and if you 
have any gratitude, you’ll own it.” 

Flora reddened guiltily. 

“ Oh,” she rejoined, “ I’m not denying that Archy is 
brave.” 

“ Sweet sister,” quoth Coleena. “ Never attempt to deny 
incontrovertible truth.” 

In due time the readers of the Tribune were thrilled by a 
detailed account of the “ nice little affair ” from the pen of 
its special correspondent, and there Aberfourie got particu- 
lars of Ivor’s heroism ; but for an account of Archy’s it 
had to wait until Ivor was able to write. It lost nothing 
because of the delay. 

“ The fact that I am alive to write this letter,” Coleena 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 363 

read, is due to his dare-devil bravery. In saving my life 
he broke all rules, and but for the luck of being with the 
r^ght general, might have got something worse than court- 
martial for his pains. And not only did he whip me off the 
field under the muzzles of a thousand rifles, but ever since 
has been my best physician and tenderest nurse. As I’m a 
judge of men. Col. Archy Buchanan’s a trump, which same 
I’ll maintain in face of the whole world. But indeed that’s 
not necessary, for the world, it seems, has taken him to its 
bosom. It never took a better fellow.” 

The writer added humorously that between them the 
Boers and the doctors had at last done for him. 

“ As I am out of it for the rest of the campaign,” he 
ended, “ I start for home just as soon as I am fit for trans- 
portation. And do you know, now that I can’t fight. I’m 
longing to be there. Ochone, ochone, ochri.” 

To another he wrote a yet more fervid tale of Archy ’s 
prowess and generosity. 

“ I shall never again judge a man,” he told Marjorie, 
‘‘ until I have seen him tested in a pinch. Fair weather 
friends are good — in fair weather. In the hurtling storm 
give me the heart and right hand of a Buchanan. What- 
ever hard things I once thought or said of Archy, I retract 
utterly — and with shame. For falling in love with some- 
body I freely forgive him — nay, next to his action in the 
field, I count that falling in love the best assurance he ever 
gave of being a man. 

“ They are very good to me here,” he went on, “ but, 
och, as I once heard a poor old soldier say, it’s sore work 
lying helpless on the broad of your back blinking and staring 
at whatever happens to be above you. I’m aching with 
thoughts of home, darling, home and you. Sometimes I 
get dizzy thinking, and imagine myself once more among 
the roses, and the honeysuckle, and the heather, with you. 


364 the eternal quest 

Every feature of the dear old landscape which holds all I 
prize leaps upon my mind’s eye. Stands Schiehallion where 
he did? Does the Tay lisp and ripple over its pebbles ? 
Most of all, do summer woods still hang clustering in fra- 
grance above Aberfourie ? Would that I had wings to fly 
there now. You remember that summer evening, sweet ? 
I am drunk with the thought of it, of what you said when 
we sat together in the twilight. Oh, sweetheart, sweet- 
heart, and there are six thousand miles of sea this night be- 
tween us. Never mind, I am going home — home to claim 
my own, if I’m not too maimed and battered. 

“ And, by the way, that reminds me of something. 
When I lay a whole day before the Boer lines, I had, as 
you know, plenty of time to think. All sorts of things 
came into my head — among others, the puzzle of my home 
letters. Many points arose to perplex me ; such as 
your long silence, the cryptic remarks of Coleena, and so 
forth. In renewed action I forgot again. But lately all the 
old thoughts have come back to me, and the mystery is 
more mystifying than ever. I know many of our letters 
must have gone astray : that’s inevitable in such a life as 
mine. I rack my brain trying to find clues and explana- 
tions ; and after piecing this and that together, after add- 
ing dark hint to mystic allusion, I am convinced something 
has happened. What that something was, I, perhaps, 
dimly guess. 

“ Now, unless you wish it otherwise — and if you do, 
there’s no going home for me — a certain sweet bargain 
stands. We are of age, we have graduated in the rough 
school of the world, and will e’en take the liberty of choos- 
ing for ourselves.” 

Marjorie’s head hummed, and Marjorie’s heart sang a 
delicious paean. He was coming — he was coming — and 
would claim her before them all. 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 365 

She met the general and gazed at him with new eyes, 
wondering how he would behave when he knew all. 
Would he fling out in wrath ? Would he gracefully yield ? 
In any case, Ivor would take his own way ; and his way 
would be hers also. She was less afraid of the general 
now ; was it because of an intuitive feeling that he would 
see reason ? 

Three days she kept the precious letter in the chaste 
privacy of her bosom. Then, under a vow of secrecy, she 
showed it to Coleena, and Coleena hugged her in a glorious 
delirium. 

Did you expect him to do anything else ” demanded 
Coleena, taking breath. “He wouldn’t be my brother, he 
wouldn’t be a Malcolm, if he did. I may order my 
bridesmaid’s dress at once, dear ? ” 

“You must not be absurd,” replied Marjorie radiantly. 
“ Only one thing troubles me,” she added, lapsing into 
gravity. 

“ What’s that, dear ? ” 

“ When I went to Edinburgh to train as a nurse, it was 
that I might nurse him if ever he were sick or badly 
wounded. Lately, I thought my chance had come, and I 
was wondering how I could get out to the front.” 

“ That is,” cried the practical Coleena, “ you had re- 
solved, in your own romantic, sentimental little mind, to go 
and die for him. I call it much better as it is.” 

“ Oh, much better,” answered Marjorie, breathing the 
air of Paradise. 


CHAPTER XIV 


Three weeks later a cabled note in the Tribune an- ] 
nounced that Major Malcolm who had so brilliantly won j 
his V.C. in a certain “nice little affair,” was that day sail- 
ing for England. The Tribune correspondent saw him on 
board at Cape Town, and the two parted like brothers. j 

“ You’ll be home soon, too ? ” remarked the major, when 
the moment of parting was at hand. 

“ Perhaps,” replied Archy, with a meaning smile, “ and 
perhaps I had better not. Besides, the war isn’t over 
yet.” 

“ Oh yes, you’ll be home soon,” repeated the major with 
conviction. He paused, his eyes fixed on Archy’s face. 
“I owe you a great debt,” he said, as it might seem 
irrelevantly. “ A man cannot owe more than his life, and 
that is the sum of my debt to you.” 

The half-healed scar on Archy’s temple quivered and 
flushed. 

“ There is no debt,” he replied. “ I have been a Brit- 
ish soldier, and what I did any one who has worn the 
queen’s uniform would do at any time, and in any circum- 
stances.” 

“ I was wondering,” returned the major, as if he had not 
heard, “ if I could incur yet another debt to you, that is, 
whether having done so much, you would do yet a little 
more for me.” 

“ Whatever I can do shall be done heartily and gladly,” 
was the answer. 

“ You are quite sure ? ” 

“ Quite sure.” 

366 


367 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 

‘‘Your hand on the promise.” 

Without hesitation Archy gave it, and waited to be en- 
lightened. But the major was not thinking of enlighten- 
ment. 

“ Very well,” he said, “ when I get home I’ll keep you 
to your word. There’s the last bell. Good-bye, old fel- 
low. Thanks for what’s past and what’s to come. Don’t 
get killed ; and don’t forget Aberfourie.” 

“ Couldn’t if I tried,” Archy answered, and ran down 
the gangway. “ My love to everybody,” he called back 
from the wharf edge ; and as Ivor nodded and smiled in 
answer, the yellow foam began to bubble at the vessel’s 
stern. 

There does not breathe an exile with soul so dead that 
he can behold a homeward-bound ship without deep stir- 
rings of the heart. Archy had no feeling of merriment as 
he watched the black line of smoke behind the Grandtully 
Castle^ fast diminishing down the bay. Presently she would 
be outside, her nose turned to the north, where, six thou- 
sand miles away, was all that made life worth living. The 
dream of home suffused his eyes. 

“ Sunlight more soft may o’er us fall. 

To greener shores our bark may come ; 

But far more bright, more dear than all. 

That dream of home, that dream of home.” 

As an invalid, Ivor was warned against cold ; but while 
a figure was distinguishable on shore he could not be in- 
duced to go below : and while Table Mountain sank on the 
sky-line behind, ahead in Aberfourie pulses were beating 
quick in anticipation. 

“ Of course you’ll go to Southampton,” said Mr. Car- 
michael to the general. 


368 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ Um,” returned the general. “ Pm out of the way of 
travelling. Besides, I hate a fuss.” 

“YouM never forgive yourself if you allowed Ivor to 
land without his father’s greeting,” rejoined Mr. Carmichael. 
“ And other considerations apart, you have cause to be 
proud of him. Think of what he was when he left and 
what he is now. I’d travel a thousand miles to meet such 
a son.” 

“ There’s something in that, Colin,” admitted the general 
from out a tobacco cloud. The chaplain was right, of 
course. The nameless lieutenant was coming back a 
famous officer. The enemies of England had tested him, 
and he was not found wanting. Unless he were hopelessly 
maimed he was marked for promotion. Already his prog- 
ress had been beyond the general’s utmost hope. 

“ Must be one of the youngest officers of his rank in the 
service,” the proud father remarked. 

‘‘And one of the most distinguished,” said Mr. Car- 
michael. “ Wherefore the man who is best able to ap- 
preciate his deeds will receive him when he steps on land.” 

Accordingly it was arranged that the general should be at 
Southampton to welcome Ivor and that Coleena should ac- 
company him. Flora remaining with the adjutant-general to 
prepare Tigh-an-Eas for the great reception. Coleena, 
thrilling in delectable excitement, added an item of her own 
to the programme. Marjorie must go too. The general 
contracted his brows with the suggestion of a frown. 

“Why should Marjorie go ? ” he demanded. 

Coleena answered with a woman’s reason, which is 
cogent if illogical. 

“ Besides,” she added, “ Marjorie is now a trained nurse, 
and we don’t know what attention Ivor may need.” « 

“ Well,” growled her father, “ we’re not going to bring 
him home in a baby carriage, I hope. He comes from 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 369 

South Africa alone. May he not manage the journey 
from Southampton without a nurse ? ” 

A whole forenoon the general held out against kisses and 
cajolings ; at luncheon he capitulated. 

“ Very well,” he cried, “ have your own way. If Mar- 
jorie would like to go, see that she gets ready.” 

Coleena flew to the manse to impart the good news ; but 
to her amazement Marjorie shrank. 

“ Oh, I can’t go,” she answered, letting her imagination 
dwell on the meeting. “ I could never go through such an 
ordeal.” 

“Well,” said Coleena severely, “if you funk I’m done 
with you, and Ivor will be disappointed.” 

A look of pain came into Marjorie’s face. 

“ I take that back, dear,” Coleena cried quickly. “ But 
indeed you must come.” 

Marjorie was white and red by turns. 

“ Oh, Coleena, it’s dreadful ! ” she said. 

“ The happiness of it ! ” returned Coleena. “ So far as 
I have ever known, people mostly get over fits of happi- 
ness j and for Ivor’s sake if not your own, you’ll pluck up 
heart and come.” 

Marjorie straightened herself. 

“ Put that way,” she answered, her eyes glowing, “ I’d 
do anything.” 

So it came to pass that when the Grandtully Castle was 
signalled off Southampton, three excited people from Aber- 
fourie awaited her. As distinguished visitors they were 
among the first permitted to board the incoming steamer. 
Afar off Ivor knew the white moustache of his father, and 
his heart began to beat dizzily. It beat with riotous mad- 
Ijess when he saw Coleena and Marjorie. He was less 
promptly recognised in return, for war and wounds and 
tropical suns had changed the round-faced youth of five 


370 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

years before. Marjorie’s eye was the first to single him 
out in the press of passengers. In a sudden tumult of feel- 
ing she plucked at Coleena’s dress. 

“ There he is,” she gasped, her heart fluttering in her 
throat — “ there he is.” 

In the same moment a thin, light figure, with the left 
arm in a sling, stepped forward, and with a cry of joy 
Coleena was upon it. The general, his pulses throbbing 
like war drums, followed her example, heedless of discipline 
or dignity. But Marjorie held back, trembling and doubt- 
ful as one there on sufferance. Only an instant was she 
allowed to stand apart. Disengaging himself from father 
and sister, Ivor took her hand. Their eyes met as in an 
embrace. 

‘‘ Darling,” he said, “ it was good of you to come to 
meet me,” and under the very eye of the general kissed her 
as one secure in the privilege. For one flashing second the 
world vanished from Marjorie’s consciousness. She saw 
only her lover’s face, wasted, piteously wasted, yet bright 
with happiness : knew only that at last he was beside her. 
She recovered with a shock to find a hundred curious or 
amused eyes bent on her. 

“ Oh,” she whispered, shrinking to Coleena’s side as for 
protection, “ what have I done ? ” 

“ Nothing whatever, dear,” was the consoling answer. 

You very properly left everything to Ivor, and he did — 
exactly the right thing. You goosie, what are you shaking 
for ? ” 

The general looked on, screwing his eyeglass as if in 
doubt about something, yet happy, unquestionably very 
happy. 

“ Well,” he remarked gaily, “ since everybody has 
hugged and kissed everybody else and the luggage has been 
seen to, mightn’t we as well be going ? ” 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 371 

They bore Ivor ofF first to London, where there was a 
stop while he paid his respects to the war office ; then 
with a rush to Aberfourie. At Perth some brother officers, 
less in luck than he, lay in wait with congratulations, and 
when the Highland engine, a bunch of white heather stuck 
like a cockade on its funnel, swept grandly round the curve 
that brings you in sight of Aberfourie station, the pipes 
struck up in rousing welcome. Coleena thrust her head out 
of a window. 

“ The whole town is out,” she cried in rapture — “ the 
whole town is out ; and I can see the volunteers drawn up 
on the platform.” 

It was as she said, for Aberfourie, realising its glory, laid 
business aside, shook out its new bunting, and cleared its 
throat to cheer. 

As the hero stepped out, the guard of honour presented 
arms and the people pealed their gladness. 

“ God, what an eye he’s got ! ” remarked a member of 
the guard afterwards. “ As he returned the salute it just 
darted along our line like an eagle’s. I wasn’t at all sure 
of our dressing.” 

A minute he was permitted to exchange greetings with 
his aunt and Flora, with Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael, Mr. 
and Mrs. Buchanan, and other privileged persons ; then 
with fit ceremonial, provost and town council extended to 
him the right hand of fellowship, proud to give it. That 
done, he entered a carriage, the general taking a seat by his 
side. But the start was not yet, for the horses must needs 
be unyoked, that two score hero-worshippers might drag 
the carriage of their idol. At last three pipers stepped out, 
and, to the music of the pipes and the vociferous admira- 
tion of a whole town, he was escorted under banners and 
arches. 

“ Talk of a prophet having no honour among his own 


371 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

people, what do you think of this ? cried Aberfourie 
jubilantly, and roared again. 

A banquet and speeches followed. The provost, in all 
the glory of his robes of office, presided, and the beauty, the 
grace, and the chivalry of half a county shed lustre on the 
assembly. Ivor acknowledged the principal toast with 
military brevity, remarking he had never till that day 
guessed his own worth or what it was to be in a helpless 
position. He ended by proposing a toast of his own. 

“ I give you,” he said, “ the health of my old comrade in 
arms, Mr. Archibald Buchanan, one of the best and bravest 
soldiers Scotland ever sent forth, and the most brilliant war 
correspondent who ever described a battle — the man who 
saved my life.” 

Men and women rose, cheering deliriously, and it was 
observed that none shouted more lustily than the general. 


CHAPTER XV 


By degrees Aberfourie recovered from its giddy enthusi- 
asm and descended to the common levels of life. Its hero 
recovered also. With delicate nursing, the tonic breath of 
heather, and the medicine of an uplifted heart, Ivor got 
over the effects of Boer bullets, received at the hand of 
his queen the honour a soldier prizes most, and grew 
weary of seeing himself in shop-window and illustrated 
paper, posed and labelled as hero, or, it might be, dangling 
from the bangles of sniggering girls or pinned to the jackets 
of bloodthirsty boys. 

In clubs his name grew familiar, so that insensibly it 
came to be taken that here was a coming man, if haply 
muddle-headed red-tapists did not strangle him. Fortune, 
it was noted, not perhaps without twinges of jealousy, 
was taking him by the hand, even as that incomprehensible 
patroness had taken his father. 

“ And he’s quite unencumbered ” remarked a critic at 
one of the chief service clubs in London. 

“ So far as is known, quite unencumbered,” was the 
answer. “ No hostages, no trammelling alliances there, my 
boy. He’s been brought up in a school which doesn’t 
believe in the petticoat, and I fancy has learned his 
lesson.” 

It is the weakness of the world to leap to conclusions. 
This opinion had hardly been expressed, when there joined 
the knot of critics a caustic, inveterate misogamist, a paper 
in his hand and an air of disgust and grievance in his 
puckered face. 

“ Well, I’m dashed,” he exclaimed. And when his 
373 


374 the eternal QUEST 

friends turned inquiringly : “ It’s a most unaccountable 

thing,” he grumbled, “ how free, sensible men, apparently 
of their own accord, run their necks into a noose. What 
malignant sprite decrees that as soon as a man distinguishes 
himself he shall also make a fool of himself. Another good 
fellow gone wrong. Read that.” 

Taking the paper, one read aloud, in sub-editor’s Eng- 
lish, of “ a romantic and fitting climax to the deeds of one 
of our most popular heroes of the war.” 

We need not follow the sub-editorial flight into the re- 
gion of romance. It is enough for us that the secret was 
out, and that already letters of felicitation were pouring 
into Tigh-an-Eas and the manse. 

The final surrender was not made without councils of 
war, grave questionings, poignant heart-searchings. The 
general spent at least half a night, smoking silently by him- 
self, to examine the situation judicially and consider his 
judgment. It was the best augury that he began with lean- 
ings to mercy. Divers things interposed to soften and 
overcome opposition ; but chiefly these — the constant 
charm and proved worth of Marjorie, Ivor’s quiet but mas- 
terful assumption that he had earned the right to make his 
own choice, and the glowing, deep-seated pride of the 
judge in a son who, whatever his minor divagations might 
be, was gloriously upholding the Malcolm tradition. As 
things were he might, of course, make a great match, and a 
great match would provide a key for many locks. But the 
general went back a generation, and his eye moistened. He 
had done precisely what Ivor was doing, and for worlds he 
would not have the act blotted out ; no, not for worlds, he 
told himself in the midnight silence. In a thrilling reverie 
he reconstructed his own remote young life, and in the 
midst of his dream rose and gazed with lover’s eyes — still 
lover’s eyes — on that picture on the wall. What life-corn- 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 375 

panion would she have chosen for her son ? What but 
such a companion, such a right helpmeet, as Marjorie, who 
had all the virtues, and no fault save the lack of dowry. 
Well, he had done tolerably without that, and some 
he knew had done badly with it. The philosophers were 
right after all; happiness was not to be bought with 
gold. 

On the very day, almost in the very hour, in which the 
London misogamist growled over Ivor's fall from grace, the 
general and the chaplain were smoking contentedly together 
in the library at Tigh-an-Eas. The windows were open, 
admitting the blended fragrance of heather and pine and 
ripe corn ; and as they talked there was borne on the per- 
fumed air the merry trill of a girl's voice. 

“ Coleena again," remarked the general, pausing to lis- 
ten. “What a fund of high spirits that child has, to be 
sure I ” 

He rose, went to the window, and looking out, called 
over his shoulders to Mr. Carmichael. 

“ Colin, if you want to see a pretty sight, come here." 

At that Mr. Carmichael too looked out, to see coming 
round the bend of the avenue Ivor with Marjorie and 
Coleena, one on each arm. Then Coleena suddenly 
frisked away, leaving the engaged pair together. 

“ A heartsome sight, after all, Colin," said the general 
musingly. 

“ One of the most heartsome eyes can see," returned the 
chaplain, in a low voice. 

“ Yes, indeed," said the general. “ Looks like our old 
selves wandered from the fabled isles of youth. Colin, as 
I've remarked before, it's a grand thing to be young- 
young and in love. See now how she looks up at him. If 
that's not adoration, I don't know the meaning of the 
word." 


376 THE ETERNAL QUEST 

“ And perfect happiness,” added the chaplain, lost in 
contemplation of the lovers. 

“ Colin,” said the general reflectively, “ what did I tell 
you long ago ? The young people are too much for us 
after all — oh yes, quite too much, and as I’m a sinner 
hoping for heaven. I’m glad.” 

The chaplain bowed, his face quivering and radiant. 

“ And it’s not for me to be sorry,” he murmured. 

“You and I, Colin,” pursued the general, “have all 
our lives given the first thought to duty. Well, in my old 
age I still declare for duty. But there’s such a thing as 
point of view, Colin, and on that much depends — on that 
perhaps everything depends. It’s possible, I find, to be 
wrong out of pure conscientiousness. Like Saul of Tarsus 
we made ourselves nasty thinking it was our duty, issued 
orders prohibiting this and prohibiting that, and, speaking 
generally, put on the brake, like a pair of old curmudgeons, 
and refused to budge. But we couldn’t stop the wheels 
of the world, Colin, or keep love from laughing at us. 
And, do you know, when we posed as sons of Jupiter, 
I had always in my own mind a secret doubt as to the 
efficacy of our thunder. We were a couple of unfeeling 
rascals who ought to have known better; because, Colin, 
we’ve had our own day of bliss, a sufficient reason for 
rejoicing in the felicity of others. All things considered, 
the young people have been very patient with us. I 
can see the temptation there was to redel. Well, the 
ship’s come home at last, and there they are. I call Ivor 
a lucky fellow ; for of all his pieces of good fortune — and 
he’s been uncommonly lucky — the greatest is this winning 
of a noble and charming woman. Yes, it’s a heartsome 
sight,” he repeated softly, gazing out. “ God bless them.” 

“ Amen,” said the chaplain. 

Not long after this benediction Ivor wrote to Archy 


THE ETERNAL QUEST 377 

reminding him of his promise, and stating the favour 
desired. Aberfourie grew impatient for the wedding ; but 
one essential thing was lacking — the presence of Archy, who 
was to be best man. True to his promise, he came as soon 
as war and the Tribune permitted. Aberfourie had to wait 
while London feted him ; then came its own turn, and the 
welcome was not less triumphant and touching than had 
been the welcome to Ivor. Overcome and almost speech- 
less, Archy begged for mercy. 

“To be in the thick of a fight,” he declared, “ is noth- 
ing to the ordeal of coming home, amid plaudits of affection, 
to all one loves.” 

In the midst of the jubilation the chaplain found occasion 
to speak a word privily in the ear of the banker. 

“ The Greek proverb,” he said, “ tells us we should 
never call a man happy till he is dead. The modern 
variation might be, ‘Judge no man until he has proved 
himself.’ ” 

The banker’s face twitched. 

“ Archy has had his revenge,” he said proudly, and 
could say no more. 

The new hero resolutely declined to talk of himself or 
his deeds, until one evening in the drawing-room at Tigh- 
an-Eas he was induced by the deft prompting of the 
general and Ivor to retell to a distinguished company the 
story of the charge and the rescue. When he reached the 
point at which his horse leaped and wheeled in the hail of 
lead, all at once Coleena sprang from Marjorie’s side, and, 
stooping quickly over him, kissed the purple scar on his 
temple. 

“ For saving Ivor,” she said, and threw back her head as 
if to defy criticism. Then, flushing crimson, she dropped 
back to Marjorie’s side, hiding as in confusion. 

When the great day came, and the grey, weather-stained 


378 the eternal QUEST 

church under the superintendence of Peter, the gardener, 
blossomed luxuriantly into wreathed and clustered flowers, 
when the wedding breakfast was over, when the speeches 
had been made, the rice spilt, the old shoes thrown, and 
Major and Mrs. Malcolm were off to the continent, some 
preternaturally shrewd people looked significantly at Archy 
and Coleena. 

“ Ho, ho ! Is that how the wind sits now ? ” they 
cried. 

‘‘ I don’t know how I’m to manage,” said Peter con- 
fidentially. “They’ve cleaned me out already. It was no 
joke drapin’ the bare bones of the old church to please the 
major, and the booky to the bride took all my bonniest 
flowers. But,” he added gallantly, “ Miss Coleena’s not 
going to want as long’s I’m at Tigh-an-Eas. For to tell 
ye the truth, if wars and weddin’s suit the big folk. I’m 
pleased. I never had such times.” 

Whispers of the popular rumour came to the general’s 
ears, and he pondered, looking at Coleena. He had re- 
garded her as a child : was she, too, suddenly grown a 
woman, and going a woman’s way ? 


THE END 



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